


What About Us?

by phantom_rain



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Ronda fights in UFC, Sasha is in WWE, semi kayfabe compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27341485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantom_rain/pseuds/phantom_rain
Summary: The strength you feel today could be the pain you feel tomorrow.Everything's perfect for them. They've just moved into a new house. They've both got successful careers. They're in love. There's not really anything more that Sasha could ask for, right?This little thing called life has other plans for her, and one fateful second later, Sasha finds that her entire world is about to be turned on its head.
Relationships: Sasha Banks & Bayley | Davina Rose, Sasha Banks & Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox, Sasha Banks/Ronda Rousey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 14





	1. Try Too Hard

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a little (a lot) different, but here's to hoping it's given a chance! Happy reading friends.

* * *

_You follow every line, you wear your perfect fashion style._

_You're like a satellite and you're driftin' through the sky._

_You can't make up your mind about this or that, or anything at all_

_You go with the flow and hope to God that no one knows it._

* * *

Sasha bites her bottom lip to keep what could be described as a giddy smile at bay. Currently, she has her phone in her lap as she rereads the email displayed on the screen for probably the third time. She eventually tosses her phone to the side and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Clad in only an oversized sweatshirt that she most definitely stole, she shivers momentarily as the cold air comes into contact with her bare legs. That doesn't deter her, however, and she's quickly striding out of the bedroom.

Once in the hallway, a small frown tugs at the corner of her lips as she does a quick glance around. She playfully rolls her eyes and internally jokes about how embarrassing it is that she has to think about where the hell the stairs even are. It's only been a couple of weeks since the move and in any normal situation she would most definitely be used to it by now, but this situation is anything but normal. If you ask Sasha, 17,000 square feet is anything _but_ normal.

"Of course," she clicks her tongue and heads off in a randomly selected direction. If the results don't yield then she can successfully say she's become one of _those_ people she used to think were stuck up and asinine whenever they'd talk about how big their houses are.

A few short minutes of searching don't exactly yield the results she was expecting, but she does find _something_. After rounding a few corners here and there she picks up on a faint muffled noise that she's able to follow around until she's brought to another lounge room. The large television mounted on the wall is set at a low volume and from where she stands, Sasha can see how the channels only seem to linger for a few seconds before flipping onto the next once. She shakes her head at the recognizable quirk and she realizes that her search has proved to be successful after all.

Halfway rounding the couch, Sasha smirks as she finds her partner stretched across the length of it, armed with the tv remote in one hand while her other arm is casually draped behind her head. She wears something of a childlike pout as she continues her channel surfing. Momentarily, Sasha curses herself for leaving her phone behind in the bedroom because she would've definitely snapped a picture of this particular moment.

"You know...we might need to get an intercom installed or something so I can actually find you in this place."

Ronda's eyes snap from the television to find her girlfriend standing over her. She blinks owlishly for a few seconds before the words finally process and she grins in response. "Don't tell me you got lost?" She implores almost smugly.

Sasha's lips purse and she looks away. "I didn't 'get lost'."

By now, Ronda's grin has widened considerably. "You totally got lost."

"I didn't!"

"You did. You totally did. Look at you, you're blushing. Babe, you _totally_ got lost."

Huffing, Sasha moves around the couch completely before straddling her girlfriend's waist. "You're so mean to me," she furrows her eyes together and puts on her best pout.

Ronda's self satisfied smirk fades into something of a soft grin before she reaches up and gently brushes her thumb along Sasha's bottom lip. "That face should be a registered weapon, you know that?"

Sasha grins. "It's one of my best assets."

"Hmmm...ass..."

"Ronda!"

Sasha squeaks and jumps slightly as she feels a hand squeeze her behind. She frowns down at the woman now grinning devilishly back at her and she immediately rolls her eyes in annoyance. "You're such a sleaze..."

Ronda faux gasps and has the audacity to try and look offended. "I am _not_. You're the one who came in here and started talking about your ass. While _you_ set said ass on me, mind you."

"You're literally such a fucking guy, oh my god."

"You love me though."

Sasha tries her best to keep her annoyed look but she does a piss poor job at it due to the the smile she's straining to hide. The first poke to her side has her gasping, and as more soon follow, she dissolves into a squirming fit of squeezes and giggles.

"Ronnie!"

"You love me! C'mon!"

"Stop it!"

"Not until you say it!"

"Okay! Okay! Fine," Sasha huffs, still laughing from the onslaught of tickles to her side. She pouts again and folds her arms before mumbling unintelligibly. "...iloveyou...."

Ronda raises her eyebrows and lifts her head just a bit. "I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

Sasha sighs exaggeratedly and loudly. "I love you."

Now it's Ronda's turn to pout. "Can't you at least say it like you mean it and not like I've got a gun to your head?" She halfway whines. When Sasha's eyes narrow and realizes that this is probably the best she's gonna get. "Guess I'll just take it then."

"You better," Sasha humphs, settling comfortably back into her spot on top of Ronda. "You're still mean though."

"The meanest," Ronda grins as she grabs both of Sasha's hands in her own and interlaces their fingers. She revels in their comfortable silence of just looking at each other before she asks a question.

"So...you like the house?"

Sasha looks momentarily surprised by the question before looking a little shy. "I do actually. I like it a lot. It's just...a little big so it's an adjustment I guess? I really didn't think I'd one day become one of those people who gets lost in her own house, but here I am." She giggles shyly. "I actually couldn't remember where the stairs were. If I hadn't left my phone in the room I probably would've had to text you."

Ronda laughs before bringing Sasha's left hand up to her lips where she places a kiss on the back of it. "Well, nothing's too big or too much for you. You deserve every bit of it."

Sasha's face immediately goes hot and she shifts slightly at the giddiness and bashful feeling swirling at the pit of her stomach. "Baby..." she murmurs quietly.

"Hey, I'm serious," Ronda reaches up and gently cups Sasha's cheek. "I love you, and that means I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

Sasha nods and instead of responding verbally, she leans down and presses her lips against Ronda's in a kiss that will hopefully convey everything she's meant to say but can't quite verbalize. It's a gentle kiss, but still warm and passion, and even as it's broken, Sasha opts to stay close while keeping their foreheads pressed together.

The two sit in near silence with the television playing faintly in the background. Eventually, Sasha sits back and begins playing with Ronda's fingers as she remembers why she had been looking for her in the first place.

"So...I've actually got some news," she draws out, biting her lip once again.

Ronda's eyebrows lift. "Okaaaay..." she blinks, and waits only for Sasha to not respond immediately as she looks like she's fending off the world's brightest grin. Ronda's eyebrows lift. "Normally people start off like that when they're about to say they're pregnant...and I'm...kinda missing the part for that to be a possibility so..."

"Ronda oh my god!" Sasha swats her girlfriend's shoulder and laughs despite herself. "God, no. It's nothing like that. It is pretty big though."

Sasha let's a beat go by before continuing. "It hasn't been announced yet or anything, but I got an email about it and...I've got a match at a the next pay per view coming up..." she pauses again. "It's a match with Becky."

Ronda blinks. "Oh that's awesome! Wait," she cuts herself off as she begins to fully process what she's just been told. "A match with Becky...wait! Becky's the...Sash! Is it????"

"Yeah, it is," Sasha chuckles. "It's for the title."

"The title!" Ronda echoes loudly as she shoots up. "Oh my god, babe! This is awesome!" She rises from the couch and takes Sasha with her. She wraps her girlfriend into a tight hug before she's spinning her around. "Baby, I am so proud of you. Oh my god. I can't even—this is your first one right?"

Feeling just a bit dizzy from the spin, Sasha still manages to nod excitedly. "Yeah! It'll be my first one. Everything still needs to be finalized and it's not even being advertised yet. I literally just found out, but I didn't want to wait to tell you."

"Your first title match. Oh my god," Ronda pulls Sasha in and placed a powerful kiss to her lips. "God, I'm so fucking proud of you, Babe. You've earned this. You've fucking earned this."

"I couldn't have done it without you here with me," Sasha admits.

"Baby, no this was all you! You did this!"

"Yeah, but not without your support. You've been in my corner this whole time and I...I really wouldn't have done it without you."

Blinking back what looks like the beginning of a tear, Ronda shakes her head. "God I love you so fucking much," she pulls Sasha back into her arms and squeezes her tightly. "I can't wait for you to bring that fucking belt home."

Sasha laughs nervously. "Heh well, I've gotta win the match first."

"I'm not worried about that! I mean yeah it's Lynch and she's no bitch in the ring, but you? You can take her. You'll do it. I know you will," she gently strokes the side of Sasha's cheek. "When's it gonna be?"

"Our next pay per view, Clash of Champions," Sasha pauses and dies a quick count on her fingers. "So three weeks from this past Sunday. It should put us at the 13th I think."

"That's awesome. I can't wait..." Ronda beams brightly before something clicks in the back of her mind. "Wait, the 13th? Of next month?"

Sasha's eyebrows knit slightly. "Yeah. That's three weeks from Sunday," she says carefully, noticing how Ronda's face has suddenly changed. "...why?"

Ronda's eyes roll to the ceiling. "Awh _shit!_ " She curses loudly before she's moving away from Sasha and over towards the bar counter where she has her phone docked on the charger. She grabs it off the charger and flips through it for a moment before she's signing heavily and cursing again. "Shit!"

"Baby? What's wrong?" Sasha implores carefully, definitely a bit confused by the sudden change.

Ronda continues to thumb through her phone before she slams it down on the counter and drags a hand through her hair. "I've got a fight that night..." she mumbles before looking back up at Sasha. "I'm headlining."

The words hit Sasha like a freight train and immediately her shoulders are dropping low. "Oh..." the word comes out like a deflated exhale, small and fleeting.

"Baby..." Ronda tries to begin, even though she doesn't know what to say. Even though both of them know that everything has already been set into place, tickets have been sold, contracts have been signed, and moving the fight at this point is quite literally non negotiable.

"Sash, I...shit," she moves back across the room to where Sasha hasn't moved from the center. "Baby, I am _so_ sorry."

Sasha does her best to smile but it doesn't reach her eyes. "No it's...I mean, this kind of thing was bound to happen at some point."

Ronda groans openly. "I know, but fuck that doesn't mean it's okay and I promised you a long time ago that I would—"

"Ronda," Sasha quickly cuts her off. She tries to smile again, and even this one is less convincing than the last. "It's okay. I promise."

"Sash, it's not. I...fuck. You know if I could be there, I would," she grabs hold of Sasha's hand. "You _know_ that."

Sasha's nod is almost sad. "I know...there's no way you could've known, so it's not your fault..." she murmurs quietly. She leans up and places a gentle kiss to the corner of Ronda's mouth before she's stepping away. "I'm, um...kinda hungry. I can either make us something or we can order in? I can give you some time to think about it."

Ronda's eyebrows furrow as she picks up all the telltale signs that her girlfriend is retreating. The lack of eye contact, the barely there smile, the sudden subject change. They're all things she's had to get used to over the course of the time they've been togthere. By now, it's stuff she can identify immediately.

"Sasha..." she tries again. "I'm really sorry."

Sasha shakes her head. "It's fine," again, her smile doesn't reach her eyes and her gaze doesn't meet Ronda's full on. "Think about dinner, okay?"

Before Ronda can even say anything else, Sasha leaves her alone in the room. Huffing irritably, she drops back onto the sofa and drops her head into her hands.

"Fuck!"

* * *

_"A two title household."_

It had been said to her over the phone followed by a laugh. A laugh that had been light hearted, but underneath it, even she could hear the uneasiness. She could hear the apologetic disappointment laced with just a small sprinkle of hope and promise for redemption. She remembers having smiled into her phone, but it hadn't lasted very long. For some reason, the corners of her mouth had struggled to stay up right, and as she spared a quick glance in her mirror, she saw that her shoulders had dropped significantly.

_"A two title household."_

The brief recollection of the memory has Sasha risking a glance at the very first row directly behind the barricade. The realization of the vacancy causes a momentary lapse in concentration and she soon finds herself leveled with a well placed forearm to the face. She's slightly whiplashed as her head rebounds off the mat and she's left with her vision dancing as she stares up at the bright lights.

* * *

Ronda sits alone in her locker room. The lighting is low and she has her hood thrown over her head. She's sitting in a chair hunched in front of her locker as she methodically repeats her ritual of wrapping and unwrapping her hands for the third time. The quiet of the room only serves to amplify the low buzz of the luminescent and the crisp rips from each tear of the tape.

Within arm's reaches is her phone. Normally, she doesn't have the damn thing anywhere nearby in the coming moments before a fight, but this particular night is different. This particular night is where she found herself scouring the internet and social media for rapid fire updates. Anything that would give her insight on the match happening midway across the country. She was refreshing feeds and pages almost every sixty seconds until she finally forced herself to toss the phone down and focus on the more pressing matters at hand. The gold plated belt sitting in the chair directly to her left reminds her of just where her head needs to be.

There's a light knock on her door before it opens just a fraction.

"Hey. Five minutes."

Acknowledging the callout, she spares once last glance at her phone, but this time she fends off the urge to reach for it. Instead, she stands to her feet and rolls her shoulders a few times to keep loose. She slips in her mouth guard and hesitates as she grabs her belt off the chair. She stares at it, allowing her fingers tracing over the intricacy of the design as she lets out a shaky breath. Risking one more glance towards her phone, she looks up at the ceiling and says a silent prayer before exiting the room.

* * *

"1! 2! 3! 4!..."

Sasha is clutching onto the bottom rope like it's her only lifeline. Her own breathing is heavy in her ears as she does what she can to drag herself into the nearest corner for a momentary breather. Presently, her left arm feels like deadweight with pain shooting from her fingertips all the way up to her shoulder when she tries to move it.

Her head thumps against the bottom turnbuckle as she tries to catch her breath.

_'I can't do it...I can't win...'_

The self deprecation repeats itself over and over again in her mind. So much so that it becomes distracting and she finds herself left at the mercy of a forcefully placed boot to her abdomen. She just barely manages to get a hand underneath said boot, and despite the screaming pain in her arm, she uses every ounce of her strength to maneuver just enough to where she can sweep the other woman's leg out from under her.

She has to win. She promised she would. She _has_ to.

* * *

It's only the second round. She's asked how she's feeling, but it doesn't much register. None of the talking does, but Ronda is left to nod along aimlessly as if she were listening.

Her fingers are looped tightly into the cage as she's given water and her face is wiped down. There's a cut on the inside of her eye, a gash somewhere near her elbow and there's an incessant pounding somewhere in the back of her head.

"—...your head at?"

She doesn't register it as a question. She only continues to nod as the short rest period comes to an end.

* * *

She's clawed her way back in.

At least, that what Sasha's been telling herself as she's been able to match and counter pretty much every move that has been thrown at her. She likes to color herself fortunate because she would say she knows her opponent's move set like the back of her hand, but she hadn't allowed herself to get comfortable with that knowledge. If being rocked for the current duration of the match is anything to go by, she knows this could've been over in a heartbeat if she had come in slacking.

She most definitely hadn't come in slacking, but her head wasn't all together and she found herself paying for it in numerous occasions as her eyes would wander off to that empty seat in the front row.

* * *

Each consecutive blow comes harder and faster than the last. Ronda can feel her own coordination lacking as she tries to parry and maneuver her way out of range to keep from getting continuously pounded in the face.

The world has a slight spin to it. Her opponent appearing as a whirlpool of blacks and reds instead of the normal outline of a human being. As this round comes to an end, she's left to momentarily feel slightly unsteady on her feet. On her way back to her corner she sticks a hand out and uses the cage to steady herself. She spits a long stream of blood before briefly squeezing her eyes shut as she shakes her head.

"You good?"

She waves off the question and nods. However, things are still just slightly fuzzy as she moves to make her way into her corner just before the final round.

* * *

It's literally the one move she has left.

_Her_ move.

It hadn't been a decision made in full confidence. Not in the slightest. If anything, it was her fourth quarter Hail Mary throw to the end zone with point o-four seconds left on the time clock. It was truly her last ditch effort.

Sasha has literally exhausted everything in her arsenal. Even down to her own signature that she hasn't quite been able to lock in all the way. She's had multiple opportunities during the duration of the match, but each time she had found her placements way too off and that allowed for those attempts to blow up in her face each and every time.

Two counters and one rope break later, she finds herself resorting to a move she's been shown numerous times but only attempted once. A move that's seemingly so simple on the surface, but it's been broken down for her fundamentally as a "just in case".

This is her just in case moment.

She hadn't much done a lot by way of limb targeting, but the teachings sitting in the back of her mind all flood to the surface. She remembers what she's been shown and if she weren't in such a dire situation, she would take the time to laugh at the distant voices in her head regarding the first time it was ever shown to her.

_"...that's it?"_

_"Hey listen, it may not be all show and tell like you do, but when it's done right? You hit all the right spots? It hurts like hell."_

* * *

The lights are way too bright. Have they always been that bright?

Ronda can't remember.

She can't focus.

None of her grapples are working. If anything, she feels like she's at an extra war within herself to forge a connection between her brain and her hands. It's almost as if her limbs have completely given up on waiting for her brain to make a decision and they've launched into a panic effort of defense.

An effort that is beginning to prove incredibly futile as with each passing second, she starts to feel her body go numb.

Noises that had been previously deafening suddenly sounds incredibly muted. Almost like everything is being filtered to her through a small plastic tube.

The blow to the face feels like that of a freight train. Her legs give out completely and the last thing she's even remotely aware of is her head rebounding hard off the mat before everything goes dark.

* * *

_"Oh my god! The champ taps out! The champ taps out!"_

_"She's done it!"_

The ringing of the bell and the subsequent roar of the crowd reverberates all the way down to her spine. She flops onto her back and digs her palms into her eyes as she takes the moment to allow her breathing to catch up to her. The sound of her own theme has now become nothing but a distant undertone.

When she opens her eyes, the bright lights of the arena are nothing but a mixed swirl of color. As she finally sits up, she's for the first time made aware of the wetness at her cheeks as tears continue to leak from her eyes.

_**"Here is your winner!"** _

She's just barely able to stand on wobbly legs as the belt is presented to her. Her fingers shaking trace over the face plate, carefully running over the encrusted jewels of the intricate design.

_**"And the new Raw Women's Champion!"** _

She momentarily presses the belt against her forehead as her tears continue to pour at a steady rate. She clutches it tightly in her right hand as her left is raised high.

_**"Sasha Banks!"** _

* * *

Sasha can physically feel herself shaking something terrible as her legs appear to be moving on autopilot as they carry her backstage. Once she's finally past the sea of curtains and production equipment, she finds herself standing in the exact same spot she had been nearly forty five minutes ago. Only this time, things are different. Everything seems significantly brighter and louder and the metaphorical weights placed on her shoulder have now been replaced by a much lighter, physical manifestation.

"Congratulations!"

"Damn good show out there!"

"What time is it???"

"Looks like it's about half past...Boss Time!"

Sasha smiles and ducks her head at the passing words of sentiment tossed her way by friendly acquaintances. She smiled and nods her thanks, continuing to move through this one rather busy area with autonomy. She stops to risk another glance down at the belt resting over her shoulder. A part of her feels like a little kid who's just gotten the one thing she's repeatedly asked for on Christmas. She reaches up and carefully runs her fingers over the jewels of the faceplate, careful to touch them as if the action alone would cause the whole thing to disappear altogether.

"—fuckin' see that?"

"Yeah, was fuckin' brutal."

"Looks like some real shit goin' down too. They cut pretty quick after."

"—wasn't fuckin' movin'."

The passing conversation fades off into nothing, though the words linger behind just a fraction of a second. Ridding herself of the frown that had made its way to her forehead, Sasha continues her short journey in the direction of the locker room. Not that she hadn't appreciated the sort and sweet sentiments. She most definitely had and it had definitely been nice to hear, but at this exact moment? It wasn't what she was looking for.

Still on slightly wobbly leggings, she slows down as she nears the locker room and hears an incredibly familiar bark of laughter.

"HAHA-OW! Hey! Fuck you!"

"No. Fuck _you_. Don't fucking touch me." There's a pause and the sound of the beginnings of a scuffle. "I mean it, do _not_ fucking touch me."

"Jesus. Touchy much?"

Sasha's eyebrows furrow together at the subsequent groan of aggravated frustration.

"Fuck _off_. It wasn't—I wasn't supposed— _Fuck_ , how did that fucking happen!?!? It's not like I wasn't ready for it! And she just...god fucking DAMN IT!"

There's a sigh and the voice that follows is much more level and stoic.

"You kinda did this to yourself, you know that?"

" _Don't_ start with me right now—"

"I'm serious. You went out there doing that...thing you do, playing with your food and all that, and you paid for it. You knew how bad she wanted it, come on."

There's a long pause before a defeated sigh.

"I knew _that_. I just didn't think..."

Sasha swallows nervously and finds enough courage to round that last corner. Just outside the locker room, she finds three familiar faces standing in a semi circle. They all appear to be engaged in the same conversation, all standing with varying degrees of poise. For a split second, Sasha suddenly feels incredibly nervous and she has no idea why. Even she finds herself suddenly anxious and hesitant about drawing attention.

An unknown deity has mercy on her and she doesn't have to. Across the way, it's Bayley, whose eyes shift from the aforementioned conversation and immediately light up with recognition when they land on the woman standing not even ten feet away across the hall. She gives her to companions a subtle nudge and their attention immediately snaps to Sasha as well.

"Hey! Sasha! Was beginning to wonder if you got lost on your way back or something."

Sasha laughs quietly at Bayley's exclamation as she approaches the group and stands with them, completing the circle. "No. I didn't get lost. Still just a bit dazed and trying to take it all in, I guess."

Even standing with a group of women that she would say is plenty safe to call her friends, Sasha still can't help but feel a bit doe eyed. The way Bayley carries her belt with a relaxed confidence, and the way Charlotte carries hers with a regality. Sasha can't help but wonder how she must look standing against all of that.

Sasha eventually turns to her left and immediately, a small pang of _something_ leaps into her throat.

Becky stands rather tautly. Her jaw is pulled tight and her gaze is intense and level with the floor at absolutely nothing in particular. If Sasha didn't know her so well, she totally wouldn't know to look for the tiny vein straining at her temple. Sasha opens her mouth and sets her lips as she tries to find her words.

"Becks...?"

Becky's jaw tenses momentarily and her eyes snap from the floor to meet Sasha's. For a split second, she doesn't say anything until she's seemingly relaxing and dropping her previously tense shoulders. If anyone were looking close enough, however, they would see how her smile doesn't ever quite fill out to its full potential.

"Hey Sash," the greeting is quiet and just a little stiff. For a moment, her eyes linger on the belt in the other woman's possession. Her eyes move back to Sasha and she smiled again.

"I've gotta go shower but...good match tonight," from there, Becky steps forward and gives Sasha a quick side hug before she's moving on down the hallway.

Sasha stares after her friend with furrowed eyebrows before turning back to the other two women. Charlotte's eyes rolled towards the ceiling and Bayley's slight grimace do absolutely nothing to put her at ease. Sasha's eyes widen just a fraction as she quickly looks back in the direction Becky had disappeared in.

"Is...she mad at me?" She's almost hesitant to even ask the question.

It's Charlotte who sighs heavily through her nose before shaking her head. "You know Becky. She just doesn't like to lose is all."

Bayley quickly nods in agreement. "Yeah, you know how it is. We're all happy for you."

Still feeling slightly anxious, Sasha manages to smile. "Thanks. It...really means a lot coming from you guys."

"It was a good match. You earned it," Charlotte nods with finality. "I've gotta go find Nattie. I'll see you guys."

"And then there were two," Bayley chuckles. When the sentiments aren't shared, she frowns slightly as she takes in the other woman's tense posture. "Hey, you okay? You know it's not anything personal, right?"

Sasha frowns, because in reality for the moment, she's not really sure at all. "No, no yeah I know. I'm just...it's a lot, right now. Like, I guess I still like of can't believe it. I'm also...Ronda was supposed to be here tonight, and I don't even know if I can call her yet. I've also still got, what is it, pictures? I think? And I'm not even sure where I'm supposed to go for that or..."

Bayley's laugh interrupts the impending ramble. "Hey, the nerves are still getting to you. You gotta let those go for right now. It was an awesome match. You really did earn this one."

"Thanks," Sasha ducks her head. "Your match was great too, and then Charlotte and Nattie just...wow," she pauses as her mind drifts back to her closest friend she didn't get to exchange hardly any words with. "I'll just...find Becky a little later, I guess."

Again, Bayley grimaces, but it's gone before Sasha can notice. "She's fine. Like Char said, she just doesn't like to lose. Let her brood for a little bit and she'll be fine."

Sasha ponders this for a moment before she sighs in an attempt to get herself to relax. "Thanks. I guess..." she interrupts herald with a shy laugh. "Guess I need to figure out where those pictures are supposed to be."

"Oh! Yeah. Well, you'll wanna get the plates changed before you take them."

"The...plates?"

"Yeah the, uh, these," Bayley taps a finger against the side plates of her own belt. "You'll wanna get yours put on first. Hehe, unless you want the old ones in your pictures."

Sasha blinks owlishly and glanced at said side plates. "I didn't...even know I had any," she blinks slowly again. "Are you sure? I've never seen them..."

Chuckling quietly, Bayley nods. "You've got them. Trust me."

"Oh..." the word is mumbled quietly. Sasha worries her bottom lip and shuffles her feet for a moment before huffing as if she's made up her mind. "I...I don't wanna sound weird or anything, but do you think you could go with me? Normally I'd ask Becky, but I don't wanna bother her and it seems like...I'm just not sure where I'm supposed to go but if you've got something else that's cool, I'll just..."

Bayley lifts her eyebrows as if surprised and a bit taken off guard by the request. Because Sasha is right, she normally would ask Becky with something like this and Bayley can probably count on one hand the times she and Sasha have actually hung out just the two of them. In any normal day, she would probably try to nudge Charlotte into going instead, but there's something about the way that Sasha is clutching her title belt as if it were the last thing grounding her to this earth, that has Bayley softening just a bit.

"Yeah, I don't mind. I'm pretty much done for the night anyway."

Sasha releases a breath she hasn't realized she had been holding. Maybe it's for the first time that night she's felt a fraction of relaxation and for now, she'll take just that. Even if it's all she can get at the moment.

* * *

The locker room has pretty much cleared out in it's entirety by the time Sasha finally settles down to fully pack up her things. Fresh off a barrage of photos, an interview she just barley got through trying to channel her inner 'Boss', and a nice long shower, this is the first time she gets to sit down and take everything in.

After having placed all her gear back in her suitcase, the belt is the very last to go. It currently sits across her lap while her fingers explore the faceplate once again. She eventually moves on to tracing the side plates that she hadn't even known were in existence before tonight. Her smile is wide as she traces along her custom insignia and Sasha can easily say that this is going to go down as her proudest moment.

Within arms reach is her phone rang she hasn't touched the majority of the night. Her heart sinks just a bit as she realizes she had been mostly avoiding the damn thing altogether. A part of her feels guilty because she knows that it's nothing more than being a victim of circumstances regarding things that were bound to happen at any point in time. Still though, for the most part, the impending disappointment hadn't faded the moment she stepped into the arena.

Signing in resignation Sasha reached out and grabs her phone. She waits the few seconds it needs to turn on, and she frowns when immediately her screen is littered with notifications. Many of them are social media mentions here and there but her attention immediately draws to the line of missed calls from an unknown number with an area code she doesn't recognize.

Vowing to check on it later, she thumbs through her phone to her favorites list in her contacts. Before she can dial. A little red blip in her voicemail box grabs her attention. Her thumb lingers over the notification for a moment before she taps it and slowly brings the phone to her ear.

"—I'm a nurse at Medical Plaza, I'm calling for Sasha Banks—"

The message sounds like it's being filtered through a tube as Sasha feels her world begin to close in on her. Her hand is shaking so much that she's barely able to keep the phone to her ear for the rest of the voice mail. Her eyes sting as tears gradually begin to well up and her free hand comes up to cover her mouth.

In an instant, she's shooting to her feet and her phone and belt jointly fall to the floor with a clatter. She grips her hair tightly in both hands and she paces back and forth while her heart is threatening to beat out of her chest. It hammers against her chest so hard it's nearly painful and with each passing second she finds it harder to breathe.

She knows she has to go. She _knows tha_ t. But the only thing she can bring herself to do is continue to pace back and forth while shaking her head rapidly. On occasion, she'll stop and look at her phone as if it were all just some trick set up to ruin her.

"Hey, was wondering if you were about to—what's wrong?"

Sasha can just barley see Bayley's outline lingering in the doorway through her tears. She opens her mouth but nothing leaves other than a strangled squeak escapes. Her hands are cold and as she glances down at them, she finds them still trembling.

Bayley frowns in concern and she quickly does a once over of the room. Her strides are long and quick as she closes the distance to Sasha and she reaches out and gently places her hands on Sasha's shoulders. "Hey, breathe. What's going on?"

Sasha's jaw trembles as she opens her mouth and shakes her head. "It's—something's—I've got a call and—" she moves away from Bayley and begins to pace again. "I have to go home. I have to go. I have to go."

Though the words are repeated over and over again, Sasha doesn't move to gather her things. Bayley carefully reaches out and grabs hold of her again. Her worry only intensifies when she notices the wide eyed and unfocused look in Sasha's eyes.

"Okay. Okay, we'll get you home. What happened?"

"I don't know...I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," the phrase is repeated as Sasha shakes her head. Finally, she takes a deep breath as a hand of rationality grabs hold of her for a sparing second. "Something's happened with Ronnie and I need...I need to go home."

"Okay," Bayley nods, keeping her voice even and calm to try and bring Sasha back down. "Okay. We'll get you there. I'll help you here and then make sure we get to the airport so we can get you home okay?"

"No, Bayley, I need to do it. I need to—"

"Hey. I'm going with you."

Sasha frowns and immediately shakes her head. "No, you need to—you have to—"

This time, it's Bayley who shakes her head, gently cutting Sasha off. "I'll change my flight. Sasha, I'm not letting you fly halfway across the country by yourself. Not while you're like this. If you don't want me to go that's fine, I'll go get Becky, but _one of us_ is going with you."

Sasha's teeth click as she snaps her mouth shut. The seriousness and firmness in the older woman's expression has her nodding in acceptance because she knows there's nothing she can do to argue back. Dragging a hand through her hair, Sasha nods again in finality.

"O-okay," she stammers out a shaky breath. "Okay. I'll get my stuff."

* * *

_Is there somewhere we can go to get away_

_Where there's truth and people mean just what they say_

_You try too hard_

_Oh oh, you just try too hard_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so this is a bit...left field? Although, I have a whole series with these two so I would like to think it's not TOO left field. Haha, anyways, I've become sooo in love with this pairing and I definitely want to give it a shot at having its own multi-chap.
> 
> If you've been here before, you might notice slight similarities with 'Recovery' a work i started a while. After many months of pondering, I've actually decided to discontinue that one, as I revamped part of what I wanted to do with it and found success with 'Shattered at Sunrise, Mended at Midnight' instead.
> 
> That being said, you'll notice some similarities, but I have a new direction that I can't wait to explore with this new pairing.
> 
> As always, I adore you guys for your encouragement and I really appreciate all of your feedback. It really does help in keeping me going. Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> ~Try Too Hard, P!nk


	2. Walk Me Home

* * *

_There's something in the way you roll your eyes_

_Takes me back to a better time_

_When I saw everything is good_

_But now you're the only thing that's good_

* * *

One gets what one gets when making any sort of last minute changes in regards to a flight. Airports are usually notorious for being as uncomfortable and unaccommodating as possible, so any fuck shit craziness that tends to happen doesn't exactly come as any sort of a surprise to anyone. Despite it not being a surprise, that doesn't exactly make it at all enjoyable.

It could most definitely be worse. It could be one of those airlines where their only standby options include duct taping you to the side of the plane and you're still tasked with being responsible for your own luggage. Their current predicament is definitely not a first choice, but it could absolutely have ended up worse.

They've been stuck towards the back of the plane where seating is a bit too crowded and the ride is a bit too bumpy. Bayley uncomfortably rubs at the back of her neck, occasionally shifting uncomfortably having opted to take the middle seat. She's had shitty flights before, and for her, the only issue currently lies in the rather large fellow snoring obnoxiously loud with his mouth open.

Rolling her eyes, she huffs and shifts her attention to the woman at her right. The corners her her mouth tug downward as she takes in Sasha's still tense posture as she sits pin straight against her seat. Her hands are wringing tightly in her lap and she appears to be staring forward, directly at the seat in front of her. At least, Bayley _thinks_ she's staring at the seat in front of her, but it's hard to tell because of the sunglasses she had slipped on not long after they had been cleared through secured. Bayley had so badly wanted to inquire deeper, but what with the hustle of moving through the airport, and having to somewhat politely bully their way onto the next flight out, it hadn't feel like a good time to ask. As they were waiting to board, the lone pair of tears she had caught trickling down Sasha's cheeks had confirmed it certainly wasn't a good time.

Now though, it was quiet and otherwise private. Well, as private as it can possibly get. Bayley sighs quietly and worries her bottom lip for a moment before she shifts and leans forward in her seat a bit, creating a bit of a barrier between her and the Snorlax behind her. She opts to study Sasha for a moment and if it weren't for her subtle hand movements, Bayley would think she was sleeping.

"Hey...how're you holding up?"

Sasha remains silent but her lips purse tightly. She doesn't immediately respond to the question. Hell, she doesn't so much as then to even indicate that she even heard it. Instead, she continues to stare straight ahead while she continues to nervously wring her hands in her lap.

Bayley knows that she shouldn't press any further, but outside of that she's not entirely sure _what_ to do. She's never really been good at this sort of thing. Especially when it comes to Sasha. She momentarily finds herself silently cursing Becky because god knows _she_ would probably know what to do or say or literally anything else seeing as she's _leagues_ closer to Sasha than Bayley had ever been.

Sighing quietly through her nose, she slumps back against her chair and closes her eyes. She was supposed to be on her way home. Following her own title match and subsequent defense, she had opted to at least spend a handful of days celebrating that before being commandeered for her next Friday night appearance. As luck would have it, she's now found herself on a flight in the complete _opposite_ direction of where home is.

She's not exactly complaining, though it may very well seem like it. It's just unexpected is all, and now she finds herself stuck in a situation where she's unsure _how_ she can provide help, much less if she even _can_ provide any at all. Yeah, she's definitely never been good at this sort of thing and she's wondered what higher deity she's might've irritated enough to want to test her with it.

"I was mad at her..."

Bayley's eyes snap open. The words were spoken so rough and so quietly for a second, she swears that she could've imagined it. Instead, she angles her head back to her right and she's surprised to find Sasha now having moved her sunglasses to rest atop her head. Her eyes are smudged and red and her lips are trembling as she tries to keep them pursed together. Bayley quickly sits up and returns to her original position facing Sasha. She waits patiently to see if she's going to continue, and when she doesn't, Bayley presses on gently.

"How come?"

Sasha inhales shakily and shakes her head. "She was supposed to be there tonight," she pauses and shakes her head again. "She wanted to be there, but she was headlining back home and it just...things just didn't line up. We knew this was gonna happen at some point. _I_ knew, but that didn't stop it from being the most disappointing feeling in the world to look over at where she was supposed to be sitting, where she _always_ sits, and she wasn't there."

The next pause she takes proves to be a self-inflicted mistake and Sasha finds her voice cracking as she tries to get her words out. "It wasn't her fault. It wasn't anything she could've controlled, but still I was just...I was _so_ mad. She called me about an hour before. I answered but I felt like I didn't even wanna talk to her. It just wasn't the same, you know? Hearing her voice over the phone when she was supposed to be with me."

"Do you know what happened?" Bayley asks carefully.

"Not anything outside of she got taken into the hospital unconscious," Sasha trails off and bites the inside of her lip as she appears to be pondering something deeply. "It just doesn't make any sense. She sounded fine when we spoke on the phone...and when I saw her last night."

Bayley hums quietly. "I mean...nothing's like this has happened before? Not that I'm saying it's normal! I'm just kinda wondering if this something that would kinda happen often. Obviously, I don't know Ronda like you do, and I've never really spent a whole lotta time watching those fights, but it seems like it can get pretty brutal."

Sasha shakes her head and laughs mirthlessly. "You ever just...get a feeling? You can't explain it or put any reason behind it, but it's just there," she takes a shaky deep breath. "In my mind I keep trying to say 'Sasha calm down. Sasha stop doing that thing you. Always making something out of nothing. She's taken worse.' I keep trying to tell myself this is just one of those times, but it's not, Bayley..."

Sitting back in her chair, Sasha blinks and a fresh wave of warm tears gather just underneath her eyelids. She doesn't even bother to reach up to pull down her sunglasses once more as she instead opts to slump defeatedly against the aircraft window. It's _not_ one of those times. She can feel it, and she's never felt more helpless.

* * *

The day Sasha met Ronda Rousey she knew who she was. She knew exactly who she was the moment she had walked in with something of an entourage and a few patrons had opted to scramble, cheer, and gawk as the group settled into a booth at the farthest corner of the bar.

Sasha knew who she was, but she most definitely wasn't tripping over herself the way her coworkers suddenly had been. She had rolled her eyes and shaken her head dismissively as she continued to wipe down the bar area. To this day, she remembers glancing over to find her co-bartender for the night looking so starry eyed for a good straight five minutes that Sasha thought she was going to have to smack him in the back of the head to bring him back to planet earth.

The fight had been playing on most of the televisions that night and on more than one occasion, Sasha found herself wincing as she watched the two women on the screen take each other to the brink of hell and back within that eight-sided cage. It's definitely not too far off from anything Sasha had come to know, but god that didn't make it any easier to watch. Surely something big was absolutely at stake with the way they were driving to beat the absolute living hell out of each other. The bout had ended with Ronda getting her arm raised high despite sporting a gash on her cheekbone and a bloodied nose.

Sasha would've been lying if she had said she wasn't the least bit impressed.

She had spent the night handing out orders from the kitchen to those who opted to sit at the bar. She hadn't thought anything of it when she had grabbed a basket of wings and went to deliver it to whoever was sitting at the farthest right corner of the bar according to the ticket. She had been a little surprised to find Ronda there, staring almost emptily at the bar while her fingers rhythmically tapped against the wood.

"You ordered the eight piece bone-in?"

The tapping stopped and when their eyes met, Sasha could fully see how exhausted the other woman was. As she very damn well should have been seeing as she had out on a hell of a show that night. Still, it's the kind of tired looking where Sasha had no idea why anyone would want to go and be out in public feeling like that.

Ronda had smiled her thanks and pulled the basket closer to her. Sasha had thought it was odd that she didn't immediately take it back to her table where everyone else seemed to be happily digging in. It was even odder when just as she turned to check on the other patrons at the bar, Ronda spoke.

"You know, I shouldn't be eating this."

Sasha's eyebrows had raised and at first, she wasn't sure if she was being addressed. What with the fact that Ronda was really the only person on this end of the bar, and Sasha was virtually the only person nearby, she figured it was pretty safe to assume that she was. However, she was totally unsure of how she was supposed to answer. _If_ she was even supposed to answer at all.

"So...why are you?" Sasha had hesitantly asked back.

Ronda was silent for a moment before she barked out a short laugh. "I dunno. Tradition? Ritual? It's something I always kinda do, I guess." She had pulled a chicken wing from the basket and had been studying it with something of an uninterested appetite. "I shouldn't be eating this. It'll probably end up going straight to my thighs or something."

Sasha had snorted almost dismissively. "I doubt that."

"True...I mean, I'm probably not even gonna finish it. Probably just go and give it to the bunch of bloodhounds I came in with. I didn't even wanna come out tonight."

"So...why did you?"

Ronda had fallen silent again, and she had looked up once again allowing their eyes to meet. She held the gaze for a while before a tiny smile just barely tugged at the very corner of her lips.

"I dunno...Tradition? Ritual?"

Sasha hadn't known why she did it, but she had glanced over her shoulder, doing a quick once over of the bar to make sure no one needed anything at the moment. She had stepped a bit closer to Ronda's side of the bar before folding her arms and casually leaning her hip against the edge.

"Your fight tonight, it was pretty impressive," she quickly followed up with a laugh at Ronda's sudden look of surprise. With a click of her tongue, she shook her head. "You seriously thought no one was gonna recognize you?"

Ronda had a blank stare before she started laughing. "No. I'm used to being recognized. Just not so...casually, I guess."

Sasha's smile had been a little snug. "Well, if it helps you, when you walked in I thought I was going to have to knock my coworker in the head to knock him out of the trance he went in to."

Ronda had taken that moment to peer around Sasha to get a look at aforementioned coworker. He was a lanky pale faced fellow who barely looked old enough to even purchase the drinks he was pouring. Ronda had turned back to Sasha with an eyebrow raised and they held the look for a moment before they both jointly burst into a fit of laughter.

Many more laughs had come that night. They had spent so long chatting that Sasha hadn't even realized the end of her shift had crept up faster than expected. Even after she had clocked out, she had been surprised that Ronda had opted to stay at the bar, and she had been even more surprised at herself that she opted to take the empty seat next to Ronda.

"Shut up. No you're not," Ronda had been laughing as she shook her head in disbelief.

Sasha sported a grin as she reached for a fry out of the basket that sat between them. "No I'm serious. I'm totally serious."

Ronda shook her head again. "No offense, but you're literally tiny. Seriously. I used to watch that stuff a lot when I was growing up and it's always the tiny ones like you that are the craziest ones. I'd be worried you're gonna snap your neck or something."

"Oh this coming from the woman who cage fights."

"You haven't been in a cage fight?"

"No! And if I was it wouldn't be like that!"

Ronda had held up her hands in surrender. "Alright alright. Still though that's...wow. I never would've guessed. How long have you been doing that?"

Sasha's finger tapped against her chin as she appeared deep in thought. "Year and a half, just about. I do some independent stuff here and there, and this job is kind of...insurance? Guess you could say I'm looking to grow up and out of that in the near distant future."

"Shit. Well good luck. I know it's not like...well I mean I guess it's kinda similar but very different at the same time, you know? I mean, shit," Ronda had wafted a hand in Sasha's direction. "You're probably out there doing flips and shit. I don't do anything like that."

"I definitely don't do any flips," Sasha had shaken her head. "But I do leave my feet sometimes. I'm still working out those kinda things."

"Wow..."

The word had been spoken rather quietly. As she had been reaching for another fry, Sasha hadn't even realized that Ronda was gazing at her until she looked up. Against her own judgement and self awareness, she found herself blushing immediately and ducking her head just a bit. They had been laughing pretty much the majority of the night and for some reason, Sasha's sudden shyness had chosen that moment to sink in.

"Everything okay?" She had asked, a bit shyly.

"No yeah. Everything's great. I was ah, I was actually kinda wondering," Ronda had interrupted herself to clear her throat. "Would you maybe wanna get out of here?"

Sasha's eyes had widened and her face had gotten impossibly warm. As if out of habit she had stiffened just a bit and recoiled in on herself as she ducked her head once again. It wasn't the first time she had heard something along those lines and she knew in her lifetime it probably wouldn't be the last. If she had been honest though, that was probably the last thing she had expected to come up in the conversation.

"Oh I um...heh," she had nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't really do that sort of thing. You know the whole...one night stand thing."

It was Ronda who had then been blushing as she immediately backtracked and came just shy of smacking her own forehead. "Jesus Christ," she sighed and her eyes slid closed. "I didn't mean it like that. I _definitely_ didn't mean it like that, but that's exactly how it sounded and I am so _so_ sorry. No I just meant, fuck, like it was getting kinda stuffy in here and I was thinking I could use some air and was wondering if you'd be okay to join me, but after that I can totally see how that isn't even on the table."

Again, Sasha had found herself surprised that night. What surprised her was how she ended up there at the first place. Seated at her own bar chatting with an otherwise stranger who happened to be one of most widely known fighters across the planet. It was something that seemed so implausible and yet here she was. All of it happening right in front of her.

She hadn't known when, how, or why it even happened. All she had known was her mouth was smiling and she was agreeing before she could talk herself out of it. She had gathered her purse and her jacket and she had left the bar with Ronda following closely behind her.

* * *

Hospitals are the devil's playground.

Sasha realizes that perhaps that's a bit too harsh an assessment by any normal person's standards, but at the moment, she feels anything but normal.

Hospitals are the devil's playground in the sense that any and all connection to the outside world and anything celestial have all been taken away. You're left at the mercy of being guided by a wicked one who finds joy in playing Russian roulette with life and death. Not to mention, the overall feeling of helplessness. It's kind of feels like putting on a pair of blinders and subsequently muting the rest of your senses. The only thing you're allowed to feel is the harsh coldness of uncomfortable air conditioning and the only thing you're allowed to smell is the stomach-churning odor of sterilizer.

Every trip she's ever had to the hospital has left Sasha remembering one thing; people die here. People die here probably daily. Hourly. People die here and though they're concealed behind their own personal rooms or operating tables, they _still_ die here. It leaves an unsettling chill moving down her spine as she wonders what becomes of the spirits of those who take their last breath in such a cold and unforgiving place.

Presently, she sits alone in one of those vile aforementioned rooms. Well, she's not entirely alone, but by the standards of realization, she might as well be. It's as quiet and as empty feeling enough for her to feel like she's alone.

She's currently laying on her side, a position she's been in for the past couple of hours she's been here. Having been given permission to stay, she had moved from one of the uncomfortable chairs to the barely comfortable bed as she takes up not even a fraction of the amount of space. Her lips are tugged down at the corners and her hand is interlaced tightly with the still fingers of another as she occasionally pleads and searches for any sign of movement.

If she's being completely honest, everything over the past several hours had been a complete blur to Sasha. She barely remembers coming out of the airport terminal, she barely remembers the rush to the hospital, Bayley consoling her quietly saying she's okay with waiting with their stuff for however long she needed. She doesn't at all remember getting the abridged version of what happened from Ronda's trainers and doctor. All she knows is that whatever did happen had led them to this moment and Sasha would do anything she could to give it back and have everything back to the way she left it some twenty four hours ago.

Realistically, Sasha knows she could easily google just what happened, but she doesn't want to. There's a large part of her that is quite content with not knowing for the moment. She's doing a pretty nice job of panicking and making up horrible scenarios in her own head right now, the last thing she needs is any concrete imagery that will further spiral her imagination.

"I don't know what's happened to you..." she mumbles, using her thumb to brush away some of Ronda's hair from her forehead. "They tried to tell me what happened, but honestly I'm not sure if I was even listening. All I know is this has never happened before and you're not here right now and I—"

Sasha pauses as her voice catches in her throat against her consent. She clears her throat before continuing on.

"I was so mad at you, but I think you knew that. I didn't want to be mad at you because that was so unfair, but god I just... the one thing I wanted was for you to be there and you weren’t, and I just couldn't help it. Then I get a call from this hospital and immediately I start wishing I could go back and give you a chance on the phone when you had called. Because I was so cold to you and all you were doing was trying."

The varying bruises and cuts and swelling is something Sasha has long since had to get used to, but it's never been to this extent and it certainly hasn't ever been coupled with an hours long state of unconsciousness.

_'Give her some time.'_

That's pretty much the only thing she can fully remember that was said to her before she was left alone in the room. She had nodded absently, even though she so badly wanted to ask about a thousand and one questions. 'How much time is time? How long is she going to stay like this? Why can't you do anything to help her? Why wasn't _I_ there?'

The questions have been repeating themselves over and over again in her mind, many of them often leaning more on the leg of her own self-deprecation. She had done what she could to quiet her thoughts, but for the love of god, sitting in silence with nothing but the low whirs of equipment and the distant buzzing from the lights is nearly enough to drive a woman insane.

Sighing quietly, Sasha leaves their hands intertwined on Ronda's stomach as she herself allows her head to thump against the poorly overstuffed pillow. She closes her eyes and does everything she can to perhaps trick herself into dozing off if for just a few minutes. She's honestly can't even remember the last time she's slept considering the day has been such a muddy blur.

As she sighs again, a low groan reaches her ear and she frowns. The noise was so fleeting that for a moment, she had honestly thought she herself had made the noise and she was too tired and delusional to realize it. It isn't until she hears it again that she's made aware that that isn't the case.

Sasha's eyes fly open and she sits up a bit straighter on the bed as she turns to her girlfriend next to her. She stares, unblinking, as her eyes flit over Ronda's features for any signs of movement. Things remain still and quiet for so long that she's just about to relax back into the bed when this time, Sasha feels a small squeeze at her fingers accompanying the next quiet groan.

"Ronnie…?"

Ronda makes a noise akin to a pained huff as her eyes appear to be shifting back and forth behind her eyelids. The hand in Sasha's begins to twitch and move ever so lightly. A small crease forms at the very center of her forehead and if Sasha wasn't staring as close as she is, she would've missed the way her mouth just slightly opens.

Sasha's initial instinct tells her to go and grab a doctor. However, as she makes the move to slide out of the bed, she feels another squeeze to her fingers, this one a bit firmer than the last. When she turns back, her eyes widen she's met with a rather familiar, albeit a bit unfocused and steely gaze.

"B-Baby?"

Ronda's eyes move slowly back and forth over Sasha, as if she's searching for something. Eventually, they settle and the worlds most tired smile appears at her lips. "Hey…" her voice is rough and quiet as she speaks, but for Sasha, that's just enough.

"I-I…" Sasha scrambles to try and find her words as she momentarily glances down at their hands that are still intertwined. "I need to go and find…I need to tell them you're…god, how are you feeling?"

Ronda blinks momentarily as if processing the question. "I'm…not sure? I—" she cuts herself off only to follow up with a groan and a harsh wince. "I have a fucking headache."

Sasha nods in understanding and once again tries to move. "Okay. I'll go get someone and tell them—"

"Wait, wait…don't leave," though her grip is incredibly weak, Ronda does her best to pull Sasha's hand back. "I think I just need some Tylenol or something. I'll be good."

"Tylenol, Ronda you…I really need to go get a doctor."

"Doctor? Babe, I don't need…I've had headaches before. You don't have to call a doctor for that."

Ronda's eyes narrow as she examines her girlfriend. "Hey…" she says, her voice full of uncertainty as she reaches a hand up and gently curls her fingers around a few strands of hair. "When'd you dye your hair again?"

Sasha's eyes widen as her eyes flit down her own purple strands that are curled around Ronda's fingers. The purple strands that she's had for just over six months now. She hasn't touched a bottle of dye since. "I…" she trails off, unsure what to say. "Not too long ago?"

"I like it," Ronda sighs quietly as she lays her head back down on one of the pillows. "It makes you look edgy…"

"Ronnie…"

"Shit…you should dye it blue…you'd look fuckin' badass with it blue…"

"I'll think about it…" Sasha worries her bottom lip as she notices Ronda's eyes have slipped closed again. "Babe…? Ronda?"

When she doesn't get a response, she quickly scrambles out of the other side of the bed. Her heart is pounding heavily in her chest and echoing in her ears as she heads for the door to grab a doctor. All of the fears she's had leading up to this moment are slowly starting to unravel and reveal themselves, and she hates every bit of that.

* * *

_ Walk me home in the dead of night _

_ I can't be alone with all that's on my mind  _

_ So say you'll stay with me tonight _

_ 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all giving this one a chance :) i hope you continue to enjoy.
> 
> ~Walk Me Home, P!nk


	3. Nobody Knows

* * *

_Nobody knows but me_

_That I sometimes cry_

_If I could pretend that I'm asleep_

* * *

Sasha has her arms tightly wrapped around herself as she stands off to the side. She's had to continue to mentally remind herself to keep her feet planted right where they are just so she doesn't move and somehow end up in everyone else's way. It's been incredibly difficult for her to not hover and rattle off the nine thousand questions she has floating around in her head.

She is only left to watch as the doctor performs his series of tests. Right now, said tests included the small light he's shinning back and forth between Ronda's eyes. The corner of us mouth is pulled down just slightly and Sasha finds herself fighting a grimace every so often when Ronda makes a quiet noise of obvious discomfort.

"Can you try to follow my finger without moving your head for me?"

"Not after you blinded me with that fuckin' light I can't."

Sasha winced and sighs quietly. "Ronnie..." she speaks up quietly from her corner of the room. "He's just trying to find out what's wrong."

Ronda grunts irritably. "Nothing's fucking wrong, I keep trying to tell you. I'm fine. Now I'd really like to get out of here so I can sleep in my own clothes and my own bed."

The doctor signs quietly and retreats from where he had been previously leaning over Ronda's bedside. He then proceeds to jot a few things down onto the clipboard he has in hand before he's passing it off the the nurse at his side. As the nurse leaves, he beckons Sasha closer before offering a small nod.

"From how you were brought in and from what I can see here, you definitely have a concussion. I won't know to what extent until I am able to perform a few more tests and probably get you in for a scan just to make sure there isn't any sort of lasting issues beyond that."

Ronda scoffs quietly and slumps back against her pillow. "No offense, Doc, but we don't need all that. I've had concussions before and I feel fine."

"You've also never been unconscious for _hours_ before," when Sasha speaks up again, her voice is a lot more curt than it had been the last time.

Ronda is a bit taken off guard by her girlfriend's suddenly clipped tone and her eyebrows slowly raise in surprise. "Sash, I promise. I'm fine. I've slept it off."

Sasha works her jaw for a few seconds before finally, her lips press together tightly. "What days is it?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me. What day is it?"

Ronda's mouth quickly opens as if she has a response ready, but her words don't come. Instead, her mouth eventually falls shut and she looks aways. Her gaze drops to her hands as her eyes unsteadily move back and forth as if she's trying to recall something she doesn't quite have the answer to. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. She just continues to stare at her hands in her lap as if they hold the answers to the proposed question.

Sasha's eyebrows furrow worriedly and she's thankful as all hell that the doctor gets the idea and mutters something quietly about giving them a moment. She steps closer to Ronda's bedside and gently reaches out to grab one of her hands and hold it in her own.

"When I woke up the first time, I didn't know where I was," Ronda whispers quietly. "I remember seeing you but I was...confused why you were looking at me like that. Like something was wrong. I don't remember falling asleep again and I thought it was better. I _feel_ like it's better. I think? Right now I guess I'm just having a hard time sorting everything out."

Taking a careful seat in the edge of the bed, Sasha runs her fingers through Ronda's hair before combing it back and away from her face. Her frown only deepens when up close she can see the cuts and bruises a bit more prominently. She gently strokes the side of Ronda's face, carefully tracing over a bruise that has already set in deeply.

"Do you remember anything? About your fight?"

Ronda falls silent and her eyes narrow. She remains quiet until eventually she sighs and falls back against the railing at the head of the bed. "I've had a lot of fights, Sash..." she mumbles dismissively.

Sasha frowns. "Babe, that doesn't..." she cuts herself off as she can feel her own frustration and anxiety beginning to build. She lets out a sigh to calm herself before she turns to face Ronda head on. "What _do_ you remember?"

Ronda shakes her head before shrugging. "I remember some things here and there. I remember talking about a fight? I remember talking to you but not what about," she pauses and huffs out a laugh. "Heh, I remember that sundress you wore when we went to Cabo? The white one with the purple flowers?" She laughs and shrugs again. "Just random stuff..."

"...what happened?"

At the question, Sasha's jaw tightens. It had been too many hours to herself to think and wondering what the hell had happened. She hadn't _wanted_ to look. The anxiety and the uncertainty had proved to be far too may and despite herself, Sasha found herself opening her phone and turning to the internet. Probably the very last thing she should have done.

It was something she hasn't quite seen before. Even in the few fights she had seen before and certainly not anything she's seen since they've been together. Everyone has their off days. With wrestling, Sasha is absolutely the first one to know what it feels like to walk into a match where from the moment you woke up that day to the time you stepped into the ring that everything just felt off.

Ronda hadn't been herself and Sasha knew that the moment she had clicked on that video. Her strikes were considerably slower and her movements were borderline sloppy and I calculated. Sasha found herself having to look away as it seemed like each blow Ronda took proved to be heavier than the last.

She hadn't even been looking at the video the exact moment it happened. She _couldn't_ looks. Yet, even having been looking away, she could still hear everything that had gone on. The immediate crowd reaction followed by a silence that ended up sending an eerie chill down Sasha's spine. The silence had eventually shifted into a low rumble of murmurs and as the video hadn't been that long, Sasha's eyes had flit back to the screen of her phone long enough to see that Ronda had been surrounded by trainers and referees as she lay completely unmoving in the very center of the mat.

Blinking away the brief but unsettling imagery, Sasha turns back to find Ronda watching her. The look on her face is enough to cause Sasha's heart to sink to the very depths of her stomach. It's a look of uncertainty, but also, dare she say, a notable tinge of helplessness. Almost like Ronda is silently pleading with her.

"You were unconscious when they brought you in. Something must've happened during your fight, I-I don't know, I didn't see...but you weren't moving," Sasha pauses and licks her lips as she tries to calculate her next set of words. "Everyone was scared for you."

Ronda's gaze wanders away from her girlfriend before moving to rest on her hands once more. "I don't remember..." she mutters. She remains silent for a moment before she closes her eyes and sighs audible. "Sash, I'm sorry."

Sasha friend. "What? I—" she cuts herself off as she shakes her head in disbelief. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Not remembering? Having you come up here for this shit when obviously you could be doing anything else," Ronda scoffs, her own self deprecation having been clear and evident in her tone.

"Hey," Sasha cuts in before she can go any further. "You would do the same if it was me. You _have_. It doesn't matter what could have been or what I could be doing. I'm right here and I'm going to be right here."

Ronda doesn't verbally respond. She doesn't have to. Instead, she reaches out and with a grip much looser than normal, she grabs hold of Sasha's hand before bringing it up to her lips. The kiss she places on the back of Sasha's hand is lingering and she keeps their fingers intertwined as she opts to rest her eyes for just a few moments more.

* * *

It's incredibly late, or depending on who you are and how you look at it, incredibly early. The sky has long since turned an inky block that shrouds the rest of the world as if it had been covered with a blanket. The air, though a bit brisk, is incredibly still, signifying the wee hours in which humanity turns in for its nightly hibernation.

The the atmosphere of the Uber ride is pretty much a direct parallel from the flight that brought them in earlier. The quiet. Sasha sitting tenseless to one side. The heaviness of the unknown and the uncertainty of knowing if the silence should be broken at all. As if breaking it will release something foul into existence.

Sasha has zero idea why she relented. Perhaps it had everything to do with the day finely creeping up on her and she was just so damn exhausted she found herself unable to fight anymore. Still though, she did her best as Ronda had all but come short of nudging her out of the hospital room in favor of going home and "getting some fucking sleep". Sasha wants to chuckle quietly as she can still pretty much hear Ronda's words, tone and all.

Sasha had promised that she would be back. When she left, what she hadn't exactly said was that she really didn't have any intention of sleeping. It had been the last thing on her mind at the time. It wasn't until her luggage had been loaded into the trunk and she was sat in the back of the ride share that she fully felt the extents of being flat out _exhausted_.

Bayley had noticed the way Sasha deflated the moment they got in the car. It was a little uncomfortable and stuffy in the waiting room for the few hours she had been there, but she was the one who had offered to stay in the first place. Realistically she's quite unsure why as on any normal occasion she would've offered a quick "damn that's tough" and gone on her way. Instead, she finds herself in the back of a car, completely across the country from home, while she carefully looks in on a woman she knows but at the same time, doesn't know too much about.

"Thanks..."

Bayley's eyebrows lift slightly as she has to take a moment to explore if she imagined the words. "Huh?"

Sasha shrugs and begins to play with her hands. "Thank you. For coming. For staying. I know it wasn't...and you probably didn't want to but...thank you."

Bayley, who had been in the process of typing out something on her phone, offers what she hopes is a comforting smile. "Hey, I told you. I saw how you were and I wasn't gonna let you travel alone like that."

Sasha's only response is to nod.

The car ride resumes as it had started; silently. That is until moments later, the car is pulling through an automatic gate and Bayley's eyes go so wide they nearly pop right out of her head. "Holy shit," she mutters under her breath, her whole face nearly pressed against the glass as the car slows to a complete stop. She just barely glances over to her left in time to see Sasha already getting out of the car. She quickly scrambles out of her seatbelt to do the same.

"Wait, Sasha," Bayley finds herself blinking owlishly as their luggage is unloaded from the trunk. She glances around once more before looking back at the other woman with widened eyes. "Do you... _live_ here?"

Sasha feels her face go warm as she looks away. "Oh...we um. We just moved, actually. Not too long ago. It's only been a month or so." She concludes quietly with a shrug before she's heading towards the entryway.

Bayley trails behind her, taking in everything about the house. If she can even call this a house. Not that she hasn't seen anything like it before. She's born and raised in California of all places after all, but damn if she wasn't expecting to pull up to something like _this_ when Sasha had confirmed the address for the ride on her phone.

The minute she steps into her house, Sasha is hit by a conflicting wave of uncertainty. A part of her wants to relax at the ideal of finally being home after everything that's happened, but at the same time she can't help but get caught up in the empty feeling of it all. Granted, the space is so big that on any day, any normal person would feel like they're in an empty house as _yes_ , they would definitely be subject to getting lost. For Sasha, however, even in such a big house, she's never once an the emptiness because she knows she's never been alone.

"Home sweet home, I guess," she tries to laugh, having noticed Bayley's not so subtle attempts to gawk at everything.

"Holy shit," Bayley repeats as she continues to look around. "You _live_ _here_..." this time, it's more of a statement of realization rather than a question.

Sasha worries her bottom lip, before she shrugs, completely unsure why she suddenly feels a bit nervous. "Ronda picked it. We looked at a few before she randomly told me she closed on this one. It was her version of a surprise."

"Hell of a surprise," Bayley mumbles as she looks around while silently questioning herself about if she's in the wrong line of work. Blinking out of her stupor, she finally turns her attention back to Sasha. "Well...I'll get out of your way and let you get settled here. I'll probably try to find a hotel or something so—"

"You don't have to," Sasha cuts in quickly before she catches herself enough to backtrack. "Find a hotel, I mean. It's really late and you'll have to pay."

"Sash, I don't wanna be in your way or anything."

"You won't be. As you can see there's plenty of space and..."

_'I'm also not sure I can be alone right now.'_

Sasha doesn't say it, but she doesn't have to. In so many hours, Bayley has found herself to exposed to just a fraction of Sasha's tells. Stuff she wouldn't have even known to look for much less actually noticed if they hadn't been tossed together by circumstances.

Thankfully she doesn't have to outright ask, Sasha nods and opts to show Bayley to one of the rooms on the bottom floor. She quickly murmurs something about needing a shower before she's disappearing up the stairs into what she remembers is the direction of her bedroom. Well, _their_ bedroom.

This is perhaps the first time they she's fully been alone to take everything in, and she absolutely hates that the moment she does, tears begin to well up behind her eyes. Not just tears for one single thing, but the over arching remembrance that this was supposed to be one of the best days of her life and for some reason, it had been decided for her that she couldn't enjoy that.

* * *

It's five am that finds Sasha curled up and tucked into the corner of the sofa. She had only been in bed for maybe an hour or less before she gave up on the idea of trying to sleep. From there, she had pulled Ronda's favorite fleece blanket from the back out the couch and wrapped it over her shoulders before she found herself curled up in another attempt to get herself to relax. It only led her to sitting idle as the minutes ticked by. She even opted to cut on the television and leave the low hum as background noise to lull her to sleep, but that attempt had also been futile.

Sighing quietly, Sasha glances down at her her phone that's resting in her lap. It had died some time while she had been at the hospital, and while she did charge it to full use while she had tried to get ready for bed, she still hadn't looked at it. She hadn't wanted to for the sole reason of potentially being reminded of the images of Ronda.

She doesn't put much thought into it as she finally grabs her phone and opens it. Given the night's events, she's not particularly surprised to find her phone littered with social media notifications. Sure there are a few congrats messages here and there, but what stands out immediately is the message sitting atop her text inbox.

_'Heard about what happened with Ronda. Hope everything's okay.'_

It's from Charlotte and had been sent probably a good hour or so before they arrived back at her house. Being completely honest, it definitely wasn't a message she had been expecting and she wonders if it was because Bayley had said something. Even though she's mindful of the time, she still types out a quick thanks and sends it off.

There's an uncomfortable tug in her stomach as she glances back at her inbox. It's a message thread that's a few rows down from the top and it hadn't been touched since the night before the pay per view. She opens it and the last few messages are a shared banter between her and Becky, where Becky was unashamed when it came to teasing her about their match that would've, at the time, taken place on the following day.

A small smile tugs at the very corner of Sasha's lips as she remembers feeling put just a bit at ease by Becky's teasing words of _'Hey, c'mon. Don't let those nerves get in the way. I'll have less fun winning that way.'_

Sasha had laughed and told Becky she better be on her A game. They had pretty much spent that night texting back and forth as friends, despite the fact that the next day they would stand across the ring from one another as opponents. Sasha hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but it wasn't until the match had been over that things had suddenly felt off.

Sasha's fingers linger over the keyboard, but she stops when she realizes she doesn't even have any sort of message planned out. It's probably far too early for her to be sending anything anyway. She sighs quietly and defeatedly sets her phone off to the side before she lets her head thump back against the sofa. Her eyes close and she tries to focus on her breathing enough to doze off, but she frowns slightly when she picks up a noise. Cracking her eyes open just a bit, she immediately yelps and jumps slightly when she finds an outline watching her from where it stands on the other side of the couch.

"Jesus!"

Bayley winces. "Sorry," she mumbles, her voice rough from sleep. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Huffing, Sasha shakes her head and pushes herself back into the couch. "It's fine. I just didn't hear you come up. What are you doing up? It's late…"

"Or early," Bayley shrugs with a small smile before taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "I slept for a little bit, but got kinda restless. I was kinda wondering if you had gotten any sleep, but then I heart the tv on."

"Yeah well…guess you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep."

"Yeah. How are…things?"

Sasha shrugs before she shakes her head again and sighs. "Apart of me feels better now that I know and I've seen her, but now it's just…actually _knowing_ ," she pauses and bites her lip. "The doctor said she definitely has a concussion, but they need to do some scans and extra tests. That's why they wanted to keep her over night. It took a few times, but she was awake and was talking to me, but she was…really confused. I…didn't tell her about my match…or that I won. Christ, she didn't even remember she had her own fight, much less how she ended up there in the first place. I don't know I just…I'm trying not to worry, so much. She would hate that I'm worrying this much. She's stubborn like that."

Bayley nods. "You guys have been together a while, right?"

"Just a little over three years. We just hit one of those milestones where you just kinda go 'hey, I can see myself living with you'. She's been there for me through a lot of my shit, and I can't help but hate myself for being somewhere else when she needed me."

The words are spoken with such a self deprecation that leaves Bayley frowning. "You know she doesn't hold that against you, right? Shit like this…it _happens_ , Sasha. You can't blame yourself over something you didn't have control over."

Sasha shrugs, and though she hears Bayley's words, it doesn't appear that they have much effect with the way her shoulders still remain deflated. "I got a text..from Charlotte."

Bayley's eyebrows shoot up in surprised. "Okay…what'd she say?"

"She was just saying she hope's everything's okay. I kinda assumed it's because you might've said something."

"I just mentioned that I flew out with you because of an emergency. I didn't get specific or anything."

"Oh…" Sasha bites her lip before hesitantly continuing on. "Have you…heard from Becky at all?"

Bayley nods. "Yeah, we were talking a little bit while I was in the waiting room at the…" she trails off when her words catch up with her and she sees something break behind Sasha's eyes. "Sasha…"

Sasha shakes her head and looks away quickly. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean—"

"No, no. Seriously, it's okay. She's probably just busy and I was just wondering if you had talked to her."

Sasha clears her throat and reaches for the television remote. "Do you want to watch something? Since we're both having a hard time falling asleep. We can find a movie or something."

Bayley opens her mouth, but if there's anything she's learned fairly well over the past several hours, it's that when Sasha closes herself down, there's not very much that can be done to pull her back out of that shell. Her mouth snaps closed and she nods before shifting into a comfortable position on her end of the couch. "A movie sounds good," she says eventually, knowing that if and when Sasha decides to come back out, it'll be on her own terms.

* * *

Sasha finds herself startling awake from a dream she doesn't even remember having. What it was has left her heart pounding almost painfully against her chest. She drags a hand through her dampened hair and takes a couple of much needed deep breaths as she does her best to get her breathing and heart rate under control.

The sun is peaking through the windows and reflecting off the television that displays Netflix's token 'are you still watching?' message. Sasha doesn't even remember falling asleep and when she looks over, she finds that Bayley must have dozed off as well as her eyes have since closed and her breathing evened out. Sasha reaches for her phone and is surprised to find that it's nearing mid morning. Considering this is probably the most sleep she's gotten in a full day, she'll take it.

Getting to her feet, she stretches her arms above her head and heads off in the direction of the stairs. She eventually finds her way into the kitchen where she grabs a glass of water. She's just about to head back up stairs to the lounge, when noises by the front door catch her attention. She pauses her movements and continues to listen closely as she hears what sounds like jingling and shuffling on the other side of the front door.

When the door swings open, Sasha is just about ready to hurl her water glass at whatever intruder decided they wanted to ruin her day. Thankfully, she doesn't get the chance to, because her face immediately contorts into a frown when she spots her girlfriend carefully shuffling through the front door.

"Ronnie?"

Ronda, who looks to be just a little unsteady on her feet, blinks owlishly as she hadn't really expected Sasha to be in the living room. If anything, she was sure that her girlfriend would be off sleeping somewhere and not standing right on the other side of the front door the moment she came in. She does her best to put on a convincing smile despite Sasha's strong gaze.

"Ah, Babe…hey."

"Hey!? What are you—oh my god," Sasha all but screeches before she's setting her water down and moving to assist Ronda as she shuffles inside. "What are you doing!? Why aren't you at the hospital!?"

Ronda winces at the rapid fire and borderline high pitched line of questioning. "Ah, it's fine. Everything's fine. The uh..the doctor said I just need to take it easy for a while."

Sasha scowls. "Take it easy!? Ronda yesterday you couldn't even..." her frown deepens as she cuts herself off. "How did you get here!?"

"I called a ride. Babe I'm…" she grimaces as streak of pain surges from behind her eyes to the back of her head. "It's just a concussion. I've had them before. It'll be fine."

Sasha doesn't at all look convinced, but seeing how exhausted Ronda is, she doesn't argue. Seeing as she has only gotten a solid four hours of sleep herself, she doesn't have the energy to argue. She opts to leave it alone for now, even though she knows damn well that it is anything, _but_ fine.

* * *

_Nobody knows the rhythm of my heart_

_The way I do when I'm lying in the dark_

_And the world is asleep_

_I think nobody knows_

_Nobody knows_

_Nobody knows but me_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler, but some development nonetheless. Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always welcome :)
> 
> ~Nobody Knows, P!nk


	4. Secrets

* * *

_ Do you feel exposed _

_ Where it hurts the most? _

_ Can you wear it on your sleeve? _

* * *

It was probably one of the most unsettling things that Sasha has seen in her life, and she's lived a lot of life, even at her young age. Still, even her own life experiences hadn't stopped the sense of dread that manifested itself into a chill that ran down her neck. Maybe if it had been a standalone one off moment, she would've thought nothing of it, but seeing as she has pretty much spent the past two days as a ball wound tight with anxiety, this certainly hasn't helped.

She hadn't known why at the time, but Sasha had become worried the moment she had mentioned that Bayley was still at the house. She hadn't got much of a reaction at first and that's what was a bit odd as Ronda's eyes had simply been wide and innocent as she blinked for several seconds. It almost looked as if she had been waiting for Sasha to elaborate further.

"Bayley..." Ronda had said carefully before her eyes narrowed. "What's she here for?"

Sasha's eyebrows had furrowed. "Remember I said she flew back with me? When I got the call about you."

Ronda's eyes had remained narrowed, but she was ultimately satisfied as she nodded.

"Oh...yeah. Yeah, that's right, sorry."

From there, it has been a bit of an awkward exchange as Sasha had thanked Bayley for simply being there. She had even tried her best to get the other woman to let her at least comp her flight ticket home, but Bayley had refused. Oddly enough, while Sasha had been pleading her case, she could practically feel the rather icy aura radiating off Ronda who sat a few paces behind her on the couch. She didn't need much more confirmation with the way Bayley's eyes would dart over her shoulder every few seconds or so. Sasha isn't sure if it's a good thing or not that the two really hadn't said much of anything to one another.

Currently, Sasha is making her way back from the kitchen as she climbs the top of the stairs. In hand, she currently has a glass of orange juice and a plate of eggs that she would say took her way too long to prepare considering she had to stop several times and brace her hands against the counter to keep herself from shaking. If there's anything that's worn her out more than anything over the past day, it's the anxiety and uncertainty that's hung over her like a cloud.

She pauses just outside of the upstairs lounge where she had fallen asleep earlier in the morning. Her eyebrows furrow together slightly when she spots her girlfriend sitting unmoving on the couch. There's something of a far off look on her face as she stares straight ahead at the television that's long since turned off.

"Ronnie?" Sasha says quietly as she moves forward. When Ronda doesn't turn or much less respond, Sasha reaches a careful hand out and gently rests it on her shoulder. "Babe?"

The touch startles Ronda and she jumps slightly. She turns to Sasha and blinks confusedly for a few moments before a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Hey, sorry."

Sasha frowns and sets the plate and glass down into the coffee table in front of them before she takes a seat next to Ronda. She relaxes just a bit as Ronda lifts her arm and allows for her to shift comfortably into her side. "Where'd you go just now?" She asks, referring to the thousand yard stare that she's seen a lot between today and the day before.

Ronda shakes her head before shrugging slightly. "Just thinking I guess..."

Sasha hums quietly as she both wraps her arms around Ronda's waist. "What did the doctor say?"

Ronda worries her bottom lip before shrugging again. "He, ah...nothing much. I mean! He did say stuff. The scans showed it's just a concussion. Like the ones I've had before."

Sasha's eyes narrow slightly. "What did he say you're supposed to do?"

"Oh...you know, just the usual stuff. Take it easy, take meds."

"Did he prescribe anything?"

"Ah. Just the usual stuff..."

Sasha frowns before she quickly sits up from where she had been resting against Ronda's shoulder. Her eyes narrow into paper thin slots as she examines the other woman who now is making a point to look anywhere else in the room but at her. "Ronda..."

Ronda's jaw ticks just a bit. If it were anyone else, the subtle tell would've been missed, but they've been together long enough for Sasha to be able to pick up on al the little things. She sits up further and crosses her arms.

"Ronda," she says, this time more firmly. "What. Did. The. Doctor. Say?"

Ronda sighs quietly and closes her eyes. "Sasha—"

"You don't know, do you? Because you left,"when she doesn't get a direct response of denial, Sasha rolls her eyes towards the ceiling and hisses. "Damnit, Ronda. Why would you do that!?"

Ronda winces as the sudden outburst draws a pain in her head. "Sasha, it's not...I'm not..." she groans frustratedly as she has a hard time trying to formulate her words. She eventually sighs and turns on the couch, tucking a leg underneath her as she reaches across for Sasha's hand. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little banged up, but it's not like anything I haven't dealt with before. I just," she interrupts herself and groans again. "I didn't wanna be there, alright? It was just...god, you know how I feel about hospitals and docs. I was just laying there with a god awful headache I wasn't allowed to sleep off and I was alone and everything about it just fucking sucked ass to the point that I couldn't lay there anymore."

Sasha's scowl fades into a look of concern and she reaches out to gently brush Ronda's forehead. "I would have stayed with you. You know I would've stayed."

"I didn't want you to," Ronda quickly shakes her head and grimaces. "Not like that. I mean I didn't want...you looked so tired and I know you had freaked yourself out about me, I just wanted you to get some rest."

"God, you are so fucking stubborn..." she sighs out a quiet laugh before shaking her head. "Bit of a news flash, but I'm always gonna be stuck worrying about you if something's wrong. Especially when I remember how hardheaded you are. I just want you to be okay. I was worried."

Ronda lifts Sasha's hand a places a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm. "I'm okay. I'll just be doing a lot of sitting and honestly...I'd really rather do that at home."

Sasha can say for a fact that this is probably the surest Ronda has looked since she's seen her. In fact, she finds her face growing just a little warm as she falls victim once again to that steely gaze she fell for three years ago. She's always teased Ronda for what Sasha calls her "kicked puppy" look that somehow seems to melt away any and all frustrations Sasha had been feeling prior. Ronda would simply grin as if totally proud of herself.

"I hate it when you look at me like that," Sasha huffs before she shifts over and lays across Ronda's lap.

Despite the pain in her head, Ronda chuckles quietly and lets her head rest against the back of the couch. She grins as she reaches down and gently tangles her fingers in Sasha’s hair. "Love you too, Babe..."

* * *

The day Ronda saw Sasha Banks in a wrestling ring for the first time ever, she just might've been hit by Cupid's arrow.

At least, that's what her friends still tell her to this day.

Ronda of course had _seen_ wrestling before. There was what she knew of collegiate wrestling as she studied a little bit of it in years where she was much younger. There was also what she grew up on, and that was the likes of legends like the Undertaker and her namesake favorite, Rowdy Roddy Piper. The two variations were oceans apart and somehow right smack dab in the middle of it all, Ronda learned about the indie circuit.

Ronda wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting, but her eyebrows had certainly nearly lifted right off her forehead when she looked up the venue and saw that it was nothing more than a high school gym. It definitely wasn't anything she was used to. If anything, it reminded her of when she herself was in high school and she had many real fights sometime around third period physics. Unsanctioned of course.

"This place smells like gym socks and puberty..."

"With the smells coming out of your room, you would know all about gym socks. Say Ronda, what're we doing out here anyway?"

"You don't remember? Some girl she's chasing after fights out of here. Or something like that."

Ronda had known it was a mistake to allow Shayna and Jessamyn to come with her. In reality, she really hadn't allowed it at all, they more or less just bullied themselves into "harmlessly tagging along" as it had been so elegantly for her. The three of them had all had their separate bouts earlier and Ronda was much too tired, and perhaps a bit too anxious to argue with either one of them.

'Chasing' definitely wasn't a term Ronda would've used. She's Ronda Rousey and Ronda Rousey simply does not chase. Under no circumstances does she ever find herself in a position where she will plan something out in secret for a full on week and be so giddy about it to the point it was all she could think about. That's not chasing. It's simply...inquiring.

Inquiring about her chances...maybe.

It had been nothing but sheer luck that they ended up in the same city at the same time. Ronda doesn't much believe in higher powers, but she's pretty sure there was some deity looking out with her in mind. She had quietly done her research and when she found that she wasn't coming up empty handed, there wasn't a single person on the planet that could stop her smile.

She hadn't told Sasha that she planned on showing up. They had been texting pretty much nonstop, daily, and on the regular. There had even been the occasional shy phone call that would happen here and there. When both of them had the time, and things just so happened to like up, Ronda would find herself in her usual spot. Usually off by herself at the farthest end of the bar. She would make sure to show up and order a basket of fries, right near the end of Sasha's shift, and they would still be hot when the other woman took up the empty seat next to her.

Ronda had been prepping for an exhibition that she wasn't too entirely stressed over. Nor did she have any reason to be. The fight was against a new comer making her debut and the match itself lasted all of a ninety five seconds total. Ronda gave the kid her props. She had heart and a whole lot of guts, but those weren't enough combined to make Ronda go easy.

It was actually Sasha who brought up that they were going to be in the same city. It was also Sasha who had tossed out the idea that maybe, if there was time of course, they could meet up for a drink at some point. Ronda's eyebrows had lifted just a bit. It wasn't uncommon for them to have a drink on one of the nights Ronda showed up at the bar, but there was something about that time that just felt a little different.

That's how Ronda found herself seated behind a steel barricade in a steel chair. The place definitely hadn't had any AC and Ronda found herself thankful that she had her friends on either side of her. At least she could count on the two of them to know what soap and showers are.

It was like one of those cheesy b-list movies where the world stopped and Ronda had felt like everyone around her had disappeared. Seeing Sasha step out from behind that curtain was something out of a movie in itself. It was almost like seeing your traditionally shy main character step into their super suit for the first time and they adopted a completely different aura from what the world knew.

To say she had been captivated would be an understatement. Sasha hadn't seen her yet, and Ronda used every moment to take in every aspect and minute detail of the woman she'd had a pretty good time getting to know thus far. From the sauntering way in her hips to the emboldened yet smug stare, Sasha practically emitted her confidence and it surfaced over the entire gym.

It wasn't until Sasha was in the ring and she had removed her shades that their eyes locked. Ronda had grinned as she had lifted her hand to give a subtle wave. For a split second, Sasha's entire demeanor had changed, but only someone looking as closely as Ronda would've seen it. Her eyes widened and her face softened to the point where her entire gimmick was threatened by a bashful smile. Instead, her lips only twitched just enough before the facade returned.

And boy was she something to watch.

Ronda had been fighting for a long time, and even in all her years of experience, she had never seen anything quite like it. The way Sasha seemed to demand the attention of the every single person there while quite literally being the smallest person there was truly incredible. On more than one occasion, Ronda found herself wincing and flinching as Sasha seemed to take a hit here and a harsh bump there.

She was nothing less than impressed when Sasha locked her opponent into a rather painful looking cross face and it wasn't before long that she had the other woman tapping the mat in submission. Ronda had known Shayna and Jessamyn were judging her with their annoying smug expression because she was absolutely the loudest one clapping. This time when their eyes met, Sasha smiled at her. A full on smile that could blind the sun, and Ronda knew she was a goner.

It had taken some convincing to get the others to go on without her while she lingered idly behind. The back of the building was dimly lit and as she watched the numbers of people who continued to filter out start to thin, she couldn't help but start to feel like she was in a movie of a completely different variety. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but she definitely hadn't wanted to ruin her good mood if she didn't have to.

Sasha had been one of the last people leaving. She had paused just outside the back entrance, appearing to finish something up on her phone before she slipped it back into her bag. As she looked up, her eyes widened when she found Ronda standing only just a few paces away. Shaking away her surprise, it had been replaced with a small smile as she minimized the distance between them.

"So..." Ronda drew out the word with a sideways grin as Sasha got closer. "The Bank Statement, huh?"

Sasha's eyebrows had shot up, and if it hadn't been so dark, Ronda would've seen the instant flush that found her cheeks. "Shut up," she mumbled as she rolled her eyes. "What're you doing here?"

Ronda had shrugged casually. "Oh you know. I was in the neighborhood and figured I would just stop by," she chuckled when Sasha simply raised an eyebrow at her. "Ah, I remember you mentioned maybe wanting to get a drink if we both had the time. Since we were in the same place and all. I hadn't seen you wrestle before so I kinda thought that'd be really awesome to see," her grin had softened, losing any of the tease it had held prior. "and it was! You're...christ, you're really incredible."

"Stop it..."

"No I'm serious! It's been a long time since I've watched wrestling like that, but I know it was pretty damn good. Not to mention you really look like you're so comfortable with yourself up there. Like you love it. You're like really into it, you know? What's it they call you? The Boss?"

Sasha had laughed bashfully and shrugged her shoulders. "It's something I'm working on. Still a work in progress, you could say.

"Well...I liked it," Ronda's voice had gone just a bit softer than it had been prior.

"Thank you," Sasha had responded, her voice just as soft. They had stood there, gazing at one another for a moment before Sasha began to shift slightly. "How was your fight? I didn't get to see any results or anything. Did you win?"

Ronda had grinned proudly. "I always win. I'm undefeated!"

Sasha had rolled her eyes once more. "Right. Of course. How could I forget."

"It's okay. I don't mind reminding you."

As they began to walk, Ronda had reached out and offered to carry Sasha's duffle bag. Sasha had been surprised by the notion, but she had handed it over none the less. She had surprised herself when she was the one to break the silence again.

"Do you have to leave any time soon?" Sasha had implored curiously.

Ronda had shaken her head. "Not really. I was...kinda hoping we could follow up on that drink."

A slow but tiny grin had spread across Sasha's face. "I'm still up for it. Maybe you can even share some of your secrets that keep you winning, Ms. Undefeated."

"I don't usually disclose such top secret information but...maybe I can make an exception." Ronda had hummed as they continued walking. After a brief moment of silence, she smirked while still looking straight ahead. "Seriously though? The _Bank Statement???_ "

"Shut up!" Sasha had swatted Ronda's arm and it was all Ronda could do but to laugh.

* * *

For the most part, it feels like she's been tasked with moving around while being trapped in some plastic tube filled with water. When she got up from the couch, the world had done about six spins and she's thankful that the couch itself was nearby so she could use it to wait for the spin to stop. She had taken the time to cover Sasha with a blanket, as her girlfriend had fallen asleep in her lap almost instantly.

The need for a shower had been astronomical, and she had spent time underneath the steamy torrent trying to recall the parts of her life she's apparently missing over the last few days. Behind her closed eyes, images would flash in rapid succession, but there was never anything concrete enough for her to grasp on to. It was almost like she was stuck watching a movie montage where someone had set it to fast forward at four times the original speed.

_"Sash, it's not. I...fuck. You know if I could be there, I would...you know that."_

Ronda's eyes had flown open at the distant semblance that sounded like her own voice. She had simply shaken her head and braces her arms against the shower walls. The longer she stood there, the clearer it all started to become.

Currently, Ronda is toweling her hair dry as she makes her way back into the bedroom. Free from the disgusting grime of hospital and everything else, she's at once made aware of how exhausted she really is. Presently, she would want nothing more than to lay down and disappear into her own mattress, but the unsubtle throb and ache behind her eyes is too much to try and ignore at the moment.

Maybe she'll just try, she rationalizes in her own mind as she wraps her towel around her shoulders. As she approaches the bed, she pauses when she spots a suitcase laying atop the mattress. For a second she wonders if it's something she's left by mistake, but the longer she stares at it, the more she realizes it's Sasha's.

Had Sasha gone somewhere? Was she planning to? Ronda can't exactly say she remembers it all too clearly. She _feels_ like it was a talk they might've had here or there, but as far as context, she's unsure.

As she reaches for the suitcase to move it from the bed, she hasn't realized the top had been unzipped and a few of the items spill out on the bed. Cursing quietly, Ronda moves to replace them, when she immediately pauses. Her eyebrows furrow and her face goes blank as she examines the things that had fallen from the suitcase.

It must've been Sasha's gear bag. That's what Ronda has rationalized by the mess of straps, boot covers, and glitter. Those aren't what hold her attention though. What Ronda finds herself unable to tear her gaze from is the ornate object framed by jewels and white straps. Her fingers are slightly shaking as she reaches out and they ghost over the encrusted emblem of the face plate, and she hesitates for a moment before closing her hand around the edge completely.

As she stares at the belt, Ronda swears that she feels it staring right back at her. She swallows thickly as her fingers continue to ghost over the jewels of the face plate. She continues to examine the belt, and her heart slams to a halt as her fingers move to trace along the side plates.

_'The Legit Boss Sasha Banks'_

Ronda would recognize that insignia anywhere. Hell, she's got plenty of T-shirts to prove it. There's just something... _different_ about seeing it plated and framed in gold. Her throat tightens almost immediately, and as pieces slowly begin to click together in her mind, she starts to feel an uncomfortable stinging behind her eyes.

That's exactly how Sasha finds her, unmoving where she stands at the edge of the bed as she doesn't break her gaze from the belt she has in hand. Sasha is rubbing some of the extra sleep from her eyes and she yawns quietly before she fully notices where Ronda's attention is. Her eyes dart to her belt and widen before darting back to her girlfriend.

"Ronnie?"

"This is yours?" Ronda's voice is quiet as she's yet to look up.

Sasha wets her lips and swallows against the dryness in her throat. "I...yeah. Yeah, it's mine..." she nods slowly.

Ronda only blinks and some of the tears that had been kept at bay, threaten to pool right underneath her eyelids. "It's yours..." she repeats quietly. "You...you had a match. You had and match and I—I was supposed to be there..."

Sasha shakes her head and moves further into the room. She gently placed a hand on Ronda's wrist in an attempt to get Ronda to look at her. "I did, but it's not—"

"You won?" Ronda finally looks up and their eyes meet.

"I...yeah."

Ronda's eyes slip closed and she obviously tenses her jaw in an attempt to keep it from trembling. "Sasha I...I was supposed to be there," her eyes open and when they do, Sasha can see how red they've gone as the tears finally spill out. Ronda slowly starts to shake her head. "I was supposed to be there and I wasn't because I..." she trails off and frowns as she tries her damndest to remember. Her heart rate begins to slowly increase and she shakes her head again as she looks at Sasha pleadingly. "Why wasn't I?"

Sasha tries to shake it off. "Ronda it's not—"

"Why wasn't I there? I was supposed to be there for you and I..."

"It was your fight," Sasha finally says. There's a squeeze just a bit in her chest as her eyes momentarily fall downcast. "Your fight and my match were at the same time. There wasn't anyway you could've been there..."

"Christ," Ronda's voice cracks on the word. She hadn't been there because of her own fight, and though she doesn't remember much about it, she can only infer as to what might have happened and that's for it to have gone any way but her own.

"I promised..."

"Ronnie it's fine..."

"It's not! I promised you I'd be there and I wasn't and I—" Ronda cuts herself off as she lifts the title belt she's still clutching tightly. "Sasha you _won_. This...it's _yours!_ And I was supposed to be there with you and I'm...god I'm sorry. You should be there—"

"Ronda—"

"You're supposed to be there! You're the champion! God what the fuck—what're you doing??? You're supposed to be—god..."

"Ronda it's—"

"You're supposed to be there! Celebrating! Not wasting your time—"

"Ronda can you just shut up!" Sasha winces at the reverb from her own voice. Her fists unclench and she sighs before she carefully pries the belt from Ronda's grip. She reaches up and cups Ronda's face with her hands, wiping a few of the tears away with her thumbs as she does so. "They know where I am. Okay? They know. Right now, I'm where I'm supposed to be and that's making sure you're okay."

Ronda wants to argue. She so badly wants to scream and yell about her own selfishness and subsequently Sasha's selflessness. Her words don't come, though. The only thing she can do is clench her teeth tightly as she leans down and rests her head on Sasha's shoulder.

_"It's your fucking fault this happened."_

That's what the voice screams at her. The same voice that sounds oddly like her own. It's loud and it's angry, and she can't fight it. The only thing she can do is listen.

* * *

_ I like to make-believe with you. _

_ That we always speak the truth ish _

_ I like how we pretend the same _

_ Play this silly little game _

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* tsk...someone is rather stubborn isn't she? Haha, thanks for reading friends! As always, feedback makes the world go round, so I'd love to know your thoughts :) see you next chapter!
> 
> ~Secrets, P!nk


	5. A Million Dreams

* * *

_ 'Cause every night, I lie in bed _

_ The brightest colors fill my head _

_ A million dreams are keeping me awake _

* * *

Ronda's fingers are tapping repeatedly against the arm of the sofa. In her other hand, she's clutching the television remote in a grip so tight, it's a wonder that the plastic hasn't crumpled right there in her fist. Her knee has been bouncing nonstop as she has pretty much been rendered to the same position for an undisclosed amount of time.

Her eyes remain glued to the screen before she points the remote at the television, and the images before her been to move rapidly in reverse. She presses another button on the remote and the images freeze. Her jaw works tightly, her hand clenching and unclenching against the couch. She shifts uncomfortable, almost taking a silent deep breath before pressing the remote again, and the images on the screen start to play at normal speed.

_"I gotta tell you, Rousey looks like she has no idea where she is—"_

Ronda's jaw tenses again as she watches herself on screen. Commentary has been right, she absolutely looked absolutely lost, and the worst part is, she doesn't remember much about it. Based on what she's seeing, she was definitely at her most sloppy and she finds herself cringing as her throat tightens at the next sequence of events.

_"Oh my god! Rousey's out!"_

Ronda's eyebrows furrow together as the count continues.

_"We've got a new champion!"_

_"Wait, wait, it looks like they're trying to get help in there."_

_"A very scary situation, she hasn't even moved—"_

Ronda pauses the television and rewinds it once more.

_"—has no idea where she is—"_

She lets it play out before eventually pausing it and rewinding.

_"Rousey's out!"_

Pause. Rewind.

_"—got a new champion!"_

Rewind. Pause.

Ronda's jaw is so tight it's nearly painful as she continues to stare at the frozen images. The images of herself bloodied and unconscious is enough to leave an unsettling churning in her stomach as she tries her damndest to recall the fight in full. Over the full course of the day, things were starting to swirl about in bits and pieces and it wasn't until she sat down and saw the fight in its entirety that things slowly started to come back.

Dragging a hand through her hair, Ronda sighs and drops the remote in her lap as she gets stuck in a loop of pausing a rewinding, all surrounding that one detrimental moment where she took a direct shot to the face. Even currently, she winces at the dull, ever present ache that continues to remind her of the way her head had whiplashed off the mat.

"Babe?"

Ronda's attention has been so laser focused on the television, that she hasn't even heard Sasha come in. She jumps slight and turns where she finds her girlfriend lingering next to the sofa. Despite her own tension, she makes an attempt to give her best smile.

"Hey. I didn't hear you come in. What's up?"

"I brought you some water and a few Tylenol for your head," Sasha lifts the items before resting them on the coffee table. Her eyebrows slowly lift as she glances at the television, before she's turning back towards Ronda with a quiet sigh. "Why are you watching this?"

Ronda's back teeth clench slightly before she shakes her head while not looking away from the tv. "Just trying to see what happened..." she mumbles before pressing the rewind.

Sasha sighs again before she takes a seat on the couch and pries the remote from Ronda's grasp. "Watching it over and over again isn't gonna make it any better."

Despite herself, Ronda allows the remote to be taken from her. This is the first time the results are fully settling in and she can't help but feel a fire burning deep inside her because of it. If she weren't so damn tired and so damn delusional, she would head straight to the gym and take out her internal frustrations on the nearest punching bag.

"That's never happened..." Ronda mutters through clenched teeth as she shakes her head. "Not like that..."

Sasha's lips tug downward. "Ronda, it happens..."

"Not like that," Ronda cuts in quickly. "It doesn't happened like that. Not to me."

Scoffing, Ronda scoots the the edge of the sofa before resting her head in her hands. "I don't even know what _that_ was. It wasn't me."

Sasha bites the inside of her lip before she's reaching over and gently nudging Ronda's shoulder. She pushes her to sit back just enough so she is able to swing a leg over just enough to comfortably straddle her thighs. She reaches down and takes Ronda's face in her hands, firmly but gently angling her head up so they can maintain eye contact.

It's then that Sasha can really see the hidden distress and confusion. She finds herself swallowing thickly and she knows, she just _knows_ , that Ronda is keeping everything locked away and bottled up tight. Sasha wondering how long of a grace period is enough before she will have to start chipping away at those walls that are only going to continue to heavily fortify themselves.

"You don't need to add to anything by giving yourself another beating you don't deserve," Sasha's voice is quiet as she lightly traces Ronda's facial features with her fingertips.

Ronda huffs and her head falls forward where it drops to Sasha's shoulder. "I feel like such a fuckin' screw up, Sash. It wasn't even...it wasn't even supposed to be that big a deal! She wasn't supposed to win."

The words echo and for Sasha, it stings just a tiny bit as they float around in her mind.

_'What do you mean she wasn't supposed to?'_

_'Was she too young?'_

_'Were you better?'_

_'Was she just not good enough?_ '

Sasha swallows and momentarily looks away. "I'm sorry..." she mumbles quietly, unsure of herself as to how she's meant to respond.

Ronda shakes her head, her face still having been concealed from where it had been pressed into Sasha's shoulder. When she finally pulls away, she reaches a hand up and gently cups her girlfriend's face. "No, _I'm_ sorry. We don't have to sit here and talk about my fuck ups. Tell me about your match? I know I wasn't able to be there, but I don't know, I'd still like to hear about it. Maybe we can watch it?"

Sasha has zero idea why she suddenly becomes bashful she the suggestion. They've both watched her matches before, and it's not like she has a problem watching herself. More often than not, _she's_ the one studying over any match she's had with a fine toothed comb while she broke it down and picked everything apart to search for something she could so obviously be doing better. This time though...this time feels a little different.

"Oh, Ronnie, I dunno..."

Ronda frowns slightly before she laughs. "What? C'mon, I wanna see my girl win her big moment. Her _biggest_ moment."

Sasha feels her face growing warmer by the second, before she shakes her head. "No it's not...I mean it's—it's not that great of a match." She interrupts herself with a nervous laugh before she shakes her head again. "I mean, Becky really kicked my ass."

Ronda snorts and makes a funny face. "Babe, I promise you no matter how bad you probably think it was, 'cause I know how you are," she pause to lightly pokes Sasha's nose. "It's no where near as tragic as getting laid out cold in front of millions of people watching. And you won, didn't you? It couldn't have been anywhere close to as bad as you're thinking."

When Sasha only continues to look away, Ronda sighs quietly and relents. "Okay...then maybe how about you just tell me about it?"

Sasha, who had been worrying her bottom lip, eventually sighs before she nods. "Yeah...I'll tell you about it. But I'll go make food first? I don't know about you but I'm starving."

"I could eat," Ronda shrugs, despite the fact she really hasn't really had much of an appetite in the dragging week she's been home.

She accepts the quick kiss aimed at her lips and she watches as Sasha slips out of the lounge without another word. Her eyebrows slowly knit together before she shakes her head, resigning that Sasha is probably just as tired as she is. She's pretty much sat with Ronda through all the ridiculous hours of the night where she had been alternating between vomiting and the never ending headaches. Ronda knows she won't ever say it, but she can see how worn out her girl is.

"And she says _I'm_ stubborn," Ronda chuckles before returning her attention to the television. Her forlorn gaze lingers into he pitiful frozen image of herself sprawled across the mat before she sighs defeatedly and begins clicking through other channels.

Channel surfing is a bit of a habit of hers and she chuckles to herself as she can practically hear Sasha talking her ear off about it. While Ronda finds it mindless and relaxing, it drives Sasha absolutely mad to the point there are sometimes where Ronda will do it on purpose if they're watching tv together. She'll be tucked into her side of the couch, halfway hidden behind her hand as she clicks through channels, trying not to grin as she listens to Sasha huffs and puff and eventually throw a pillow at her face.

She's not looking for anything in particular, just flipping until she finds something that catches her eye. Or really, flipping until she inevitably gives up and resorts to one of the many streaming services they've subscribed to. She remembers once time she tried to joke and say they should cancel everything and just watch tv with an antenna like the old days. Sasha had simply looked at her like she had grown three heads.

_"—Sasha Banks—"_

Ronda frowns slightly as the name registers several seconds after that fact. She finds herself quickly backtracking a few channels, eyes narrowed as she does so while she tries to identify where exactly that might've come from. Her eyes dart to the time in the television, and her frown remains in place as she lands in the correct channel, only deepening when she spots a rather familiar and brash redhead now on the screen of her television.

_"That's been the question on everyone's mind right? I know it's been the question on mine. Where in the hell is Sasha Banks?"_

If it were any other time, Ronda would be changing the channel in a breath of a second. She's not ashamed to say that of Sasha's friends (or _fakes_ as Ronda so eloquently likes to mutter under her breath), the Irishwoman on her screen is definitely at the bottom of the totem pole. There's nothing wrong with a little arrogance, especially when you're amongst the best of the best at what you do, but there's something about walking around like you're god's greatest gift to humanity that leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

_"It's been what, a week now and somehow nobody's heard from her? Convenient enough for her to steal from me and then just disappear off the face of the earth, right?"_

Ronda scoffs out a laugh. "Stealing..." she draws out the word sarcastically with an added eye roll. "That's a cute new word for getting your ass kicked."

_"Sasha Banks is not better than me."_

Ronda's jaw suddenly tenses.

_"Sasha Banks got lucky, and the second she steps her ass back in this ring, with my title that she stole, she's gonna find out how quickly her luck runs out."_

Ronda's teeth are clenched so tight, she act should be painful. Instead, she doesn't feel a thing as she continues to watch the human embodiment of arrogance smirk and exit the ring. Ronda's not stupid. She knows how wrestling works, how the business works. She knows from the many times of Sasha laughing at her and reminding her _'babe, it's for tv'_ any time she might get just a little too invested. Ronda knows all that.

Ronda also knows unbridled and natural born arrogance when she sees it. Sure she knows everything is for tv and the cameras and whatever else, but there's was a sense of conviction Ronda felt as she sat and listened to the other woman's boasting. A part of her wants to go further back in the programming, just to catch the very beginning and get the gist of what was said in its entirety. She doesn't though, lest she risk raising her blood pressure for something and someone stupid.

* * *

Sasha still recalls one of their earlier dates as a defining moment for them. Well, if she can even use the term 'date'. For so long, Sasha had considered a date something close knit and intimate. Most of the dates she had been on in her life so far had fit that definition. This particular date she'd had with Ronda was anything but.

All in all, Sasha kinda supposes that it was partially on her for asking too many questions, none of which were the right ones of course. It had been a time where things had slowed down considerably for the two of them and they were allotted some time to quietly explore the feelings that were no doubt brewing between the two of them.

Leading up to it, Sasha had noticed that Ronda would at random get uncomfortable. She would go from teasing relentlessly about something, to quietly backing off. To Sasha, it almost looked like she was on the verge of asking a question, but she would never quite push herself over the edge of doing so. This had gone on for weeks before Sasha finally said something about it.

"What's wrong?"

Ronda's eyes had gone wide. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Sasha had shrugged. "I don't know. You've just seemed like something's been bothering you lately." At the time, the self doubt had started to seep in just a bit and Sasha had been left wondering if Ronda was starting to see something she didn't like very much.

"Oh...that."

So there _was_ something.

Sasha hadn't pushed. She had only waited patiently, with a bit of heightened anxiety of her own as Ronda shifted uncomfortably and tried to find her words.

"It's nothing. Well, no it's not nothing, it is something. It's like...well, ah. There's a thing, and I kinda don't wanna go to it, but I have to. Well, I mean I don't _have_ to but I still...have to, you know what I mean?"

Sasha hadn't been able to hide her tiny smirk of amusement as the other woman seemed to trip over her words.

"It's an awards thing. It's kinda formal. I didn't wanna ask because it's kind of a lot, but..."

"You need a date."

"Pffft. I don't _need_ a date," Ronda had tried to sound playful despite the fact she was blushing. Eventually, she had offered Sasha a warm, easy going smile. "But...I'd like one?"

Sasha had agreed and the only question she had really asked was regarding how formal is 'kinda formal'. That's how she found herself in a simple but elegant black dress on a particularly cool and comfortable summer evening. Even as she was seated next to Ronda in the back of a blacked out SUV, she hadn't much sensed anything too out of the ordinary.

Again, it had been her fault for not asking enough questions.

Things hadn't really clicked into place until the car was slowing to a stop at a jam packed venue in the heart of Los Angeles. Sasha's eyes had widened considerably as she peered at everything from the window, and she had turned to find Ronda just as nervous, if not more nervous than she had been the moment they'd gotten in the car.

Sasha hadn't really known what she was expecting when Ronda said 'awards thing'. Perhaps in her mind she was thinking of some modest accolades gathering surrounding Ronda's fighting. It hadn't even crossed her mind that Ronda had been talking about the biggest gathering of everything sports that only happens once a year.

"Okay...you didn't tell me that _this_ was your awards thing," Sasha had deadpanned, still not looking away from the window as she saw a sea of cameras on the other side.

"No, no I know and I should've," Ronda had sighed and sunk a bit in her seat. "I really should have, I just wasn't sure how or if I told you if you'd even wanna come and...I realize now that was totally unfair of me."

"I'm not upset or anything. This is just...a lot."

"It is a lot. It is. If you want to leave just tell me and we don't have to be here. Like I said, I'm usually not one for these kinda things but..."

"You have to. Now I see why." Sasha had chuckled before she turned in her seat and reached over to grab Ronda's hand. "This is definitely something that's new to me, but...I'm still willing to be here, if you're willing to stay."

It was definitely much easier said that done and Sasha had immediately been made aware how out of her element that she was the moment they had stepped out of the car. She hadn't even realized how tightly she was clutching Ronda's hand, until Ronda had given said hand a gentle squeeze as she leaned over to whisper calming words in her ear.

"It's okay. We don't have to do the whole carpet thing. I'm not a fan of that part anyway."

Sasha had swallowed thickly and nodded, keeping the tight hold she'd had on Ronda's hand. Even as she was lead away from the sea of cameras and finely dressed sportsmen and women, her eyes still remained wide and slightly pensive. It was definitely far off from virtually anything she had been used to before.

"Not every day a girl gets asked out and she says yes only to find out she's getting taken to the ESPYS," Sasha had laughed, breaking the silence between the two of them as they were amongst the first to find their seats.

Ronda had chuckled and nervously rubbed the back of her neck. "Ahah well...I definitely should've mentioned it."

Sasha had nodded. "It would've been nice to know, but I'm not upset. We've spent a lot of time with me showing you my world, it's only fair that I get to see yours. Which is just as important too if we're gonna you know...try this."

Ronda had relaxed from the tense posture she had taken up in her chair. She had reached over and taken Sasha's hand again before she placed a gentle kiss along her knuckles. "You know...this type of stuff is usually almost unbearable, but having you here has already made it better."

Sasha had only been able to blush as a response.

The night hadn't been particularly dragging, and while Sasha hadn't really fancied herself a person to get starstruck too easily, there had been several occasions were she would see someone walk by and her eyes would go wide just a fraction. On several occasions, she would risk a glance at Ronda who she found already watching her with a look far too smug for her liking.

"I didn't peg you for the traditional 'fangirl' type," Ronda had murmured smugly as she leaned over to isolate the conversation.

Sasha's eyes had narrowed. "I'm not."

Ronda has simply raised her eyebrows. "Oh? So all the gawking you've been doing is just your natural face then?" Her lips had pulled into an even wider smirk. "I don't know if I should be offended or not. You never fangirled over me like that."

"Well I hate to break it to you, but there's levels to this. There's the Williams sisters, and then there's you. Now shut up. I do not fangirl."

Sasha had had to contain her own laughter with the way Ronda's mouth had fallen open, preceding an offended gasp. Hopefully she had gotten her message across that two could play the smart ass game.

The night has moved on and Sasha had completely relaxed into the environment. One thing she had noticed though was though was somehow the later it got, the more nervous Ronda had become. It wasn't until they were onstage announcing the nominees for Best Female Athlete that Sasha understood.

"Are you okay?"

Ronda had shrugged and then shaken her head. "No. Yes. It's not a big deal. Not that I'm expecting to, but I kinda don't wanna win the thing. I'm not good with speeches..."

Sasha had raised her eyebrows. "Speeches?"

"Yeah...you win the thing and you go give a speech about the thing. I-I, aheh, have a, uh, a speech thing, and I never really wanna—"

They'd been interrupted by Ronda's name being announced. Suddenly, all eyes were on their little end of the row, the lights were brighter, the music was a bit louder, and everyone was clapping. Sasha had immediately seen the way Ronda initially froze. It was then that she had made the split second decision the place a gentle kiss on Ronda's cheek while squeezing her hand encouragingly. Ronda had nodded and offered a much more at ease smile before she was sliding out of their row to head to the stage.

Sasha had sat with the widest smile on her face while Ronda had given her acceptance speech. It was short and to the point and Sasha would goes as far as to say it was indeed very 'Ronda'. She had been surprised, though, when her name was amongst the short list of people Ronda had thanked. She found herself blushing all the way until Ronda was able to rejoin her later, and they'd held hands pretty much the remaining duration of the evening.

It wasn't until the afterparty that Sasha once again felt like a fish completely out of water. Ronda had promised they wouldn't be staying very long, but she did have something of an obligation to abide by the informal formality of showing her face. Sasha hadn’t had a problem with it, there had been free drinks after all, but it was still a bit surreal as she found herself exchanging quick pleasantries with people who lived a completely different life than she did.

_"The Unstoppable Ronda Rousey."_

That had been the first time night that Sasha would admit to being completely starstruck. The two of them had been in their own little corner of the world when the duo approached them and Sasha had recognized them immediately. She would be considered the biggest fool on the planet had she not.

Ronda's eye roll had been somewhat playful as she smiled nonetheless. "Unstoppable, undefeated, baddest on the planet, you know how it is," she extended her hand to the woman who had made the comment. "Nice to see you, Steph. You too, Hunter...I guess. How've you guys been? It's been a while."

"Only a couple years I think. What was it, Dad's funeral? Sounds about right around there. We've been great though. You know how it is. Kicking ass, taking names."

"Wondering when the hell and what the hell it's gonna take to get you in our ring."

"Then this one. Always looking for a time to talk business."

The banter between the three had been light and Sasha hadn't even realized she had pretty much taken a half step back behind Ronda. If anyone were looking closely, the sight was almost comical as she resembled something of a child who was opting to hide while the adults were talking. Being completely honest, that's exactly how she had felt.

Ronda had beamed widely. "Well, I wouldn't hold your breath on it dude," she chuckled. "I've got a pretty hot streak I'm trying to keep hold of."

Hunter had shrugged. "Hey, you can't lose if you're not there right?" He grinned only to immediately flinch when his wife swatted him in the arm. "Ow! I'm just saying!"

Ronda had rolled her eyes at the two before she remembered she definitely hadn't been alone in the moments before they showed up. She glanced over her shoulder just enough to find Sasha had somewhat backed away a good two to three steps by then. She mentally facepalmed against her own social faux pas.

"Agh, sorry. Didn't mean to get carried away there. Hey, Sash. Come meet some friends of mine."

 _'Friends'_ of all the things she had expected that night, this certainly wasn't one of them. A part of her had silently cursed Ronda for noticing that she was still there before she had been able to disappear altogether. Nevertheless, she had put on her best smile as she exchanged greetings with two of the biggest executives in the world of pro wrestling.

"Hey! Sasha's actually—"

"—Still getting used to all of this," Sasha had jumped in quickly to cut Ronda off. She had grinned slightly before she chuckled nervously. "She didn't tell me she was bringing me as her date to an awards ceremony of all things. Just kinda said 'yeah I have this thing' and here we are."

Stephanie had rolled her eyes while Hunter snorted and began to laugh. "Sounds like something she'd do."

Ronda had only blinked in confusion as she tried to decipher the smile Sasha had sent her.

The conversation carried on briefly, mostly with jokes being cracked back and forth while Sasha began to find herself shifting just a bit uncomfortably. Thankfully, it was something that Ronda had noticed as she finished off the rest of the drink she'd had in had and set it to the side.

"It was great catching up, but I think Sasha and I are just about ready to head out."

"We should probably be doing the same. Although, there's a few of ours still running around here somewhere. A part of me wants to stay to make sure nothing gets torn up at our expense." Stephanie had rolled her eyes before once again offering Sasha a kind smile. "It was nice meeting you, Sasha. Keep this one out of trouble, yeah?"

"Yeah, good luck with that," Hunter had placed a hand to his mouth to offer Sasha a not-so-subtle faux whisper. "She's pretty damn hard headed."

Ronda had rolled her eyes. "And you two have definitely outstayed your welcome here."

"Hey, this is free real estate!"

"Not when I'm here it's not!"

As the couple eventually walked away, Ronda turned once again to find Sasha halfway behind her. She frowned slightly as she tired to search for any semblance as to what might've been wrong. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't mean to kind of dominate conversation like that."

Sasha had shaken her head and tried to smile, though against her knowledge, it wasn't all that convincing. "I'm fine. Just a little tired out from today? If it's alright with you, I think I'd be okay with heading out for the night."

"Totally," Ronda had been more than ready as she kept her hand on the small of Sasha's back as she guided her through the crowd.

The car ride had been silent, but Sasha didn't need to turn away from the window to know that Ronda had been watching her pretty much the entire time. She could feel it. Eventually, she had sighed and shifted in her seat just enough to turn, but not face Ronda completely.

"Sorry if I kind of killed the vibe earlier."

Ronda had frowned and shaken her head. "You didn't kill any vibe. I was just wondering if something was wrong. You kinda just...locked up when Steph and Hunter came over. You know them right?"

Sasha had snorted, almost too mirthlessly for her own tastes. "Of course I know them. I'd be stupid not to."

"Okay..." Ronda had drawn out the word carefully as she picked up on the sudden change and tension in Sasha's tone. "Then what's up? I could've talked about you, you know. They're always looking for talent and you're pretty fuckin' talented, Sash."

Sasha had made a face closely resembling a grimace, but thankfully it had been hidden in the dark. "No it's okay. I kinda didn't want you to? I mean, it was really nice to meet them. They seem...great actually, I just...I don't know. I just don't feel like I'm ready for that yet."

Ronda had only nodded and opted to listen instead of protest, even though she so badly wanted to. She had seen Sasha in the ring and though she wasn't anything close to being an expert in wrestling, she knew talent when she saw it. A part of her had wondered if the same could be said for Sasha though.

"Well...whenever you're ready. You know I'm more than willing to help you right? With whatever you need. I...I wanna help."

Sasha hadn't expected the sentiment, but she definitely wasn't ungrateful for it. She had ducked her head slightly before adjusting her seatbelt just enough so she could scoot across the backseat. Instead of placing another kiss to Ronda's cheek, she had reached out and gently cupped Ronda's face with her hand, turning her head just enough before she tentatively pressed their lips together.

The kiss had held all the trademarks of a first time. It had been shy and pensive. It had been gentle and chaste, but at the same time it had been full of curiosity and wonder. Neither woman had wanted to pull away, but they had for the sake of air. They did, however, opt to stay close as they shared twin bashful smiles.

* * *

With dinner successfully going in the oven, Sasha has opted to make a pitstop in lieu of returning to the lounge. Instead, she rounds herself in their 'display' room. Well, in reality, Sasha had called it something more like Ronda's trophy room. Ronda had waved her off and made a face, claiming that calling it that made her sound like a middle aged dad going through a midlife crisis.

That's pretty much what it was though. Sasha hadn't really had much to put in here aside from the few signed photo plaques she has here and there, but nothing like the accolades that take up the other half of the room. Her fingers trace lightly over the glass cases that hold tournament medal after tournament medal. From national championships to world championships. She pauses as her gaze lands on a lone medal in a case of its own. The Olympic medal.

Sighing to herself, Sasha moves over to where her own championship title is neatly folded into a chair in the corner, simply because she doesn't have a place to put it yet. She takes a seat in the chair and replaces the belt in her lap, her fingers tracing over its intricacies as this is probably the first time since everything had happened that she's gotten to examine it in its entirety. She stares at it unblinking for so long, that she's afraid if she does blink, then it will vanish entirely and she'll be left with nothing but yet another wishful dream.

It's not a dream, though. It's her reality.

_'But why doesn't it feel like it?'_

Abandoning the belt in her lap, Sasha pulls out her phone. Yet another thing she hasn't much touched over the past week or so and for very good reason. She's responded here and there to the important things, but anything that wasn't exactly detrimental, she opted to keep at arms length. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, she hasn't exactly worked out in her head.

The second she opens her twitter, she honestly wishes she hadn't. Her timeline is flooded with mentions, almost too many for her to sort through. The only thing she does is idly scroll, grimacing slightly at some of the comments that float across her screen, all of which staying consistent with the same theme; her absence.

On any normal occasion, things wouldn't get to her. Not like this, but there's something about being called 'spineless' over and over again that leaves a dissatisfied feeling sitting in the base of her stomach. If they only knew. If anyone only fucking knew the hell and anxiety she's been through over the past week…but they don't. As they shouldn't because it's not anybody's damn business.

Sasha doesn't fucking care. She doesn't. But _damn_ if it still doesn't sting seeing all of that.

_'Becky's right. Banks shouldn't be champion. Can't even be bothered to show up.'_

The corners of Sasha's lips tug downward at that particular comment. What drives that stake home even deeper is the fact that she literally hasn't heard from Becky since the night of their match, and even _that_ is something she can't even consider an exchange, seeing as their interaction had been nothing but a fleeting few seconds in the hallway.

Huffing quietly, Sasha throws caution to the wind and opens her phone. Her finger lingers idle above the contact, before she gives in and taps the screen before bringing her phone to her ear. She sighs quietly and sits back in her chair, listening as her phone as the other line continued to ring. She was just about to give up when there's a click on the other line.

"'Lo?"

"Beck, hey…"

"Ah," there's the small sound of movement before Becky's voice returns. "Hey, Sash. What's goin' on?"

Sasha's eyebrows furrow slightly at the casualness. "Nothing. I just…it's been a while, I guess. Did I catch you in the middle of something?"

"Nah. Well, I was just packing up for the night, but I'm not in any kinda hurry or anything. What's up?"

"Nothing, I just…" Sasha pauses and shakes her head when she catches the conversation starting to repeat itself. "We haven't talked since I've been out and I guess I was just kinda wondering…"

Sasha is interrupted by something that sounds like a quiet sigh on Becky's end. "Hey, yeah. That's…my fault really. Stuff's been kinda busy you know? I heard about something happening with Ronda from the sites and I meant to call you and check in, I guess I just got kinda sidetracked and never came around to it. I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize for that it's…" Sasha trails off as she tries to find her words. "It's not about that…" _'not entirely'_ "I guess I just wanted to make sure we were okay."

There's a pause before Becky makes a noise that sounds like an odd cross between a groan and a sigh. "Agh, Sash is this about the promo tonight? Look, you know I…fuck, I didn't mean of that stuff right? Like, you know I'm supposed to be an asshole here."

Sasha frowns because no, she has no idea what promo Becky's talking about, but if her twitter feed is anything to go by, maybe she doesn't exactly want to know. "No, it's…not that. I hadn't actually been, watching. Ronda's been…having a bit of a hard time so I've been busy, so it's not that. But..are we? Okay?"

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because we…"

_'—literally used to talk everyday and as soon as that match was over it was like you couldn't even look at me.'_

"I don't know. Guess with everything going on, I'm just being stupid."

"Hey, you're not being stupid, and you're right. You do got a lot going on. How long do you think you're gonna be home?"

Sasha sighs and slumps down in her chair. It's a question that management has asked her and a question she's even asked herself, and unfortunately, she's at a point where she's not entirely sure she has an answer. "I don't know? Ronda's getting better, but she's still having a bit of trouble remembering some things sometimes. For the most part, I think she's getting better."

"Well…hopefully it'll be soon. You're kinda missed around here. Things aren't the same without the Boss being ya know… _Bossy_."

The two share a laugh and Sasha realizes this is probably her first genuine laugh all week. "Thanks Beck…"

"Hey. I only say it 'cause it's true. I've gotta take off here in a little bit, but…you'll let me know how you're doing? If you need anything."

"I will. Talk to you soon?"

"Definitely."

Ending the call, Sasha feels something of a weight being lifted off her shoulder. Keeping hold of her phone, she stands and carefully replaces her title where it had bene folded in her chair. She gives the room another once over, sparing a grin at the life size Ronda standee in the corner. She laughs quietly to herself as she remembers the deep shade of red Ronda had turned when Sasha first brought it home and the fight they'd had over keeping it versus throwing it in the fire pit like Ronda had campaigned. Obviously, Sasha had won out under the condition that the cut out never leave this room.

As she leaves the room, Sasha is surprised to find Ronda just rounding the corner and the two nearly collide. "Jesus!"

"Sorry," Ronda laughs sheepishly, taking note of how she's once again startled her girlfriend.

"You move like a ghost," Sasha pouts as she steps into the arms that have opened themselves for a hug.

"You just need to listen more," Ronda continues to laugh as she gives Sasha a squeeze. "Were you talking to someone? I could've sworn I heard your voice down here."

Sasha perks up just a bit. "Oh! Yeah, I was talking to Becky."

Ronda lifts her eyebrows. "Becky…"

"Yeah. Becky…you know, redhead, Irish—"

"I _know_ who Becky is," Ronda shakes her head with an eye roll. "Was just wondering why you were talking to her."

If Sasha picked up on the coldness in Ronda's voice, it doesn't show. Instead, she simply shrugs innocently. "We hadn't caught up in a while. She was just checking in."

Ronda only hums initially. "Oh…well. That's good. I guess."

Sasha's eyebrows knit as she finally picks up on the odd energy her girlfriend is putting out. "Is everything okay?"

"No yeah. It's fine. I just started to smell food and came down wondering what you decided on."

Sasha's concerned look morphs into a wide smile as she grabs Ronda's hand. "I'll show you. You're gonna love it!" 

Ronda accepts the quick kiss placed to her lips as she's pulled in the direction of the kitchen. She's thankful that she's trailing maybe a little less than a half step behind Sasha, that was Sasha can't see the way her eyes have narrowed considerably to the point she's nearly plastered her own trademark scowl across her face.

* * *

_I think of what the world could be_

_A vision of the one I see_

_A million dreams is all it's gonna take_

_Oh, a million dreams for the world we're gonna make_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for your reads and your thoughts :)
> 
> ~A Million Dreams, P!nk


	6. Beam Me Up

_There's a whole other conversation going on_

_In a parallel universe_

_Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts_

* * *

The gym is attached to the house somewhere off towards the back of the property. It's empty save for the lone source responsible for the harsh echoes that rebound off the wall every few seconds. The sounds of gloved fists combined with the occasional kick creates a symphony of sound that's almost volatile.

The torrential downpour of sweat would deter anyone from continuing without a break. Not Ronda. The occasional sting of her own perspiration in her eyes is enough to ignite a flame that keeps her pushing forward. She's been at it for who only knows how long, and her muscles scream as they let her know as such. Her cheeks are flushed and puff out occasionally as her breathing continues to come out in short but controlled huffs.

This is the third day in a row she's found herself losing hours in the gym. On most occasions she'll show up where light is still peeking through the windows and by the time she's made it back into the house, the sun has dipped well below the horizon. Today is one of those days where she's found herself unable to get comfortable in her own bed. She ducked out of bed pretty early and she's been in the gym ever since.

Pounding out a quick combination of strikes, she takes a step back to allow herself a brief moments rest. Her shoulders rise and fall quickly as she stares down the punching bag. Her jaw clenches slightly as she throws a half jab to the back, snorting bitterly as it doesn't much move against the neglectful punch.

The whole time she's been fighting to find her rhythm. She's watched her most recent match more times than she can count at varying speeds as she tried her best to break down where everything went wrong. She even found herself replicating the exact sequences that lead up to that horrifically defining moment. She can go as far as to say she feels much better than she had in the previous weeks, but there's something that's just _off_ and for the life of her she can't pinpoint what it is.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," Ronda grunts as she rests her hands atop her head while continuing to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut at a slight ache that shoots through the back of her skull, but she's quickly shaking her head in an attempt to shake it off.

Ronda inhales deeply and lets everything out in a long huff before she gets back into her stance. She takes a few quick jabs at the bag before delivering a sturdy roundhouse kick. She resets her position and proceeds to repeat the same sequence. She's so deeply focused on her strikes, that she doesn't hear the sliding door open, much less the footsteps that follow.

"Ronnie, seriously? Again?"

Flinching, Ronda lets her arms fall against her sides. Her eyes lift to the sky, sending up a silent prayer to anyone willing to listen before she turns around. Immediately, the glare she's met with is enough to turn her blood to ice.

"Oh. Hey, Sash. Didn't know you were up."

Sasha's eyebrows raise almost as if she's silently balking at the sheer audacity of the statement. "Yeah well, you wouldn't have. Seeing as this is the third morning in a row I've woken up alone."

Ronda's shoulders drop. "I'm sorry...I've just been having a hard time sleeping I guess," she murmurs while awkwardly scratching the back of her head.

Sasha's lips are pursed into a tight thin line as she takes in Ronda's appearance. "You look terrible."

"Gee thanks," Ronda snorts while brushing back a few sweaty strands of hair.

"I'm serious. You look...God," Sasha shakes her head as she steps closer. Her eyes flit back and forth for a moment before she reaches up and cups Ronda's face. "Why're you doing this to yourself?"

Ronda immediately frowns at the notation. "I'm not doing anything. I've just wanted to get some reps in to, you know, keep myself loose."

"You're supposed to be resting!"

"And I have been! But Christ, Sash, I'm sick of just sitting on my ass. Besides, I need to get back into it for my rematch."

"Rematch?" Sasha's eyes go wide before they narrow into dangerously thin slits. "Has Dana already scheduled you for a rematch!?"

For the nth time in so many short minutes, Ronda finds herself flinching again, this time at the sudden increase in Sasha's tone. She knows she's said way too much. Leave it to her own mouth to back her into a corner. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

"Not officially. He's called and it's mostly just been him checking in. It...might've come up the last time," seeing Sasha's mouth slowly open, Ronda is quick to cut her off. "He hasn't scheduled anything! We just...we talked about it, so I mean...it might come up again soon...maybe."

Sasha is silent for such a long time leaves Ronda shifting uneasily. Finally, Sasha scoffs almost bitterly before she's looking away. "Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable."

Ronda groans. "Sasha..."

"He's out of his mind, and that's not news to news to me, but _you!?_ " Sasha exclaims, gesturing to her girlfriend as if her hand motions will do more to drive her point home. "Ronda you are concussed—"

" _Was_ —"

"Well we wouldn't know that because you won't go to a damn doctor!"

"Because I fucking feel fi—"

"I don't fucking care how you say you feel!" For her small stature, Sasha's voice is surprisingly booming as it leaves a lasting echo around the walls of their gym. Her fists are balled, her shoulders are tensed, and her teeth are clenched tightly as she stares at Ronda with an intensity that drops the room to subzero temperatures.

The two stare each other down for a long moment. Neither woman wavers or so much as moves as the look shared between the two of them is something that screams glare as loud as it does pleading. It's Sasha who relents first, her shoulders falling from their tense stature as she shakes her head.

"This is about that damn belt isn't it?" Sasha's voice is low and controlled as she asks.

Ronda's jaw tenses involuntarily and she looks away. It's such a small minuscule notion, but Sasha _knows_ , and Ronda knows she knows. "I'm entitled to my rematch," Ronda's voice is just as quiet as she means every word.

Sasha's arms come up and she wraps them around herself. "What about your health? You're entitled to that before anything else. Everything else can wait."

"It can't though. It can't!" Ronda groans and rakes her hands through her hair as her tone leaks with frustration. "I can't just sit idle and have them write me out of a story for a couple weeks only for me to come back and everything be the same. People are _competing_ , Sasha. The ranks are changing daily and pretty soon I'll...I'm not gonna be..."

"The great Ronda Rousey..." Sasha's mumbles is low, but still audible enough to hold her deadpan tone.

The corners of Ronda's mouth tug downward and once again her hands to limp. "Come on, don't...don't do that."

Sasha's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh? Am I wrong? Is there some other reason you're being a big dumb idiot about this!?"

This is something Ronda has noticed in the time they've been home together. It seemed like Sasha's tension was rising with each passing hour, and though she tried to smile her way through it, Ronda could see past all of that. It was to the point where Sasha's words would have a bit of a sharper edge to them and Ronda wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that without succumbing to her own emotions.

It's a conversation she'd rather not have, and she treats it as such as she moved past Sasha over towards the bench where she's sat her towel. "I'm not arguing with you. I'm not."

"I didn't realize this was an argument. I was asking you a question."

"Sasha, stop—"

"—And why won't you answer me!?"

"Maybe because you're being such a bitch about it!?"

The second the words leave her lips, Ronda wishes she could take them back. Sasha's face falls before instantly being replaced by a look that is as blank as it is cold. She takes a full step back before her posture goes rigid all together.

Ronda drops her gaze to the floor. "I didn't mean that..." she mumbles before sighing heavily. "Sasha, I didn't mean that." When Sasha still doesn't opt to respond, she reaches a hand out only to deflate more when her girlfriend once again moves away. "Babe..."

"I need to be in Atlanta for tonight," Sasha eventually says, her voice low and almost cold. "I have to go back."

"Tonight?" Ronda echoes though she heard her the first time. Seeing Sasha only nod and not offer anything else, she hesitantly presses further. "Okay...that's kind of last minute, isn't it?"

Sasha shrugs before folding her arms tightly. "Well, they can only idly write me out of a story for so long."

Ronda internally grimaces as her own words are thrown back at her. "When are you leaving?"

"My flight is at noon. I have a return flight after, so I'll be back tonight. It'll be late."

Ronda bites the inside of her lip for a kismet before she opts to step out on a limb. "I'm going with you."

Sasha's eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me?"

Ronda shrugs as if she had made the most normal and casual request in the world. "I'm going with you."

Sasha's jaw works several times and she stammers out a few unintelligible words before she's shaking her head in complete disbelief. "No. No, absolutely not."

"Why not? I know the only reason you plan in coming back at god knows what time tonight because you're worrying yourself to death."

"And for good reason! You're being a stubborn ass—"

"—and I'm just going to go with you so you don't burn yourself out. I've got nothing going on anyways."

Sasha holds Ronda's gaze for a long time. "You don't need to be traveling right now," she states firmly.

Ronda quirks an eyebrow. "Well according to you I don't need to be working out either. I wouldn't be able to do that if I was with you, would I?"

It's in moments like this that Sasha wishes she weren't at such a height/weight disadvantage. Not that she can't hold her own with anybody, but she knows she wouldn't get away with the attempt to throttle her girlfriend when she does shit like this. She'd end up on her ass in a heartbeat and judging by the half smirk and gleam in Ronda's eyes, Sasha knows she knows it.

"I'm leaving for the airport in an hour." Sasha all but growls through clenched teeth before she's spinning on her heel and walking briskly away.

As she watches her girlfriend leave the gym, Ronda lets out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. It truth, she certainly hadn't intended to offer to travel. God knows she really wasn't up for it, but at the time she would've done anything to carve away at the tension that she so inadvertently created.

Sighing heavily, Ronda turns and throws a much harder punch at the punching bag, before she's heading off for a much-needed shower.

* * *

"No. I'm not gonna do that. Oh my god."

"What? C'mon. It's not gonna hurt."

"You're asking me to—wait! What are you trying to say!?"

"Nothing! I'm just saying it's not gonna hurt! You're kinda small, Sash."

"I'm still strong enough! Do you know how many people I've tapped out!?"

"Do you know how many people _I've_ tapped out?"

"...you're being an ass. You said that just to be an ass. I'm plenty strong enough you know."

"N-No! I didn't say you weren't! I'm just saying—"

Sasha had been unable to keep a straight face any longer and she immediately dissolved into giggles. Her laughs had only intensified at the way Ronda's shoulders immediately fell and her face turned a light pink. Sasha had even had the audacity to try and cover her mouth, but that had done nothing to keep her giggles at bay.

"You're teasing me." It hadn't been a question, but an almost deflated statement to match Ronda's posture. Her face had screwed up into something adjacent to a pout and judging by how warm her face had suddenly gotten, she knew it was being visually reflected, judging by the way Sasha was in near hysterics a few feet away from her. She had huffed and folded her arms. "You know, for someone who asked for my help, you're not acting like you actually appreciate it."

The living room of Ronda's condo had been pretty much rearranged entirely. The furniture had been pushed out of its normal placement and relocated along the walls. The cleared wooden floors had been replaced by foam mats that covered the expanse of the room. The two women had stood opposite one another, Ronda with her arms folded tightly and Sasha still with her hand plastered over her own mouth.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” Sasha had been interrupted by her own giggle-snort. “I’m sorry. You just look so cute when you’re all like that.”

Ronda had scowled. “Like…what…”

Sasha had snorted again. “Like _that_. You’re…you’re _super_ _red_.”

“Oh my god!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just! It’s super cute!”

“That’s it. I’m not helping you anymore.”

“Wait! No, no, c’mon!”

“Nope. I’m not helping you. You can find somebody else to practice with.”

“No, no, no…” Sasha had closed the distance between the two of them and grabbed onto Ronda’s wrists as the other woman had tried to walk away. She had put on her best pout as she looked up at Ronda through her lashes. “I was only teasing. Stay?”

Ronda had huffed again, doing her best to look anywhere but at Sasha’s most deadly weapon. “I don’t know. You were mean.” She had responded with a pout of her own, opting to continue the game.

“Aw, you know I didn’t mean it. Besides, where am I gonna find someone else to help me?” Sasha had paused to bat her eyelashes as her fingers gently began to stroke Ronda’s wrists. “Someone who’s as accomplished and… _experienced?_ ”

Ronda had known she was going to relent, but perhaps she didn’t know it was going to be so quickly. “Fine, but only because I’m feeling nice,” she had rolled her eyes as Sasha’s pretty convincing pout immediately morphed into a self-satisfied grin. “And I’m going to need you to put that face away, and only use it in case of emergency.”

Sasha had been next to roll her eyes. “Yeah, emergency. Sure, whatever. What is it you’re gonna show me?”

“Right,” Ronda had straightened up as her tone became more serious. “I know you asked for help with striking, which I’m more than willing to offer because that windmill technique you’ve got is _not_ it,” she had chuckled when Sasha immediately flipped her the bird. “But I was kinda hoping we could also work on some takedowns?”

Sasha’s eyebrows had lifted curiously. “Take downs? Not really something I do a lot of.”

“No, yeah I know. Most people your size don’t because they don’t think very much about it. They rely on other things, like in your case, you’re crazy fast which is pretty awesome. But also, most people would look at your size and wouldn’t think it’s something in your arsenal. I can show you how to shift your weight and momentum, so you’ll be able to catch a lot of people off guard. Especially the ones who think they’re hot shit just ‘cause they’re bigger. We can also work on what some of those like transitioning into grappling…if you want! Sorry, that might look like I’m trying to—which I’m not! I can definitely just show you what you’ve asked me, I was just—”

“Hey…” Sasha’s voice had been soft as she had reached up and gently placed her fingers over Ronda’s lips. “I’m willing to learn anything you wanna teach me. It’ll be nice, you know? Seeing how we can kinda, I dunno…weld our styles? Besides,” she had moved her fingers just enough to lean up and place a tender kiss against Ronda’s lips. “Maybe I can even teach you a few things?”

“Yeah…” Ronda’s voice had gone hoarse, and she immediately flushed a deep fire engine red as she caught it and cleared her throat. “I mean, yeah! Yeah, I’m always…I’m always open for new stuff.”

Sasha had smirked. “So…we should get started then?”

“Yeah…yeah, we should.”

The practice session had been every bit of informative as it was physical. Ronda had expertly broken down some basics step by step, before with permission and agreement, she offered to demonstrate the move. For the most part, she had walked Sasha through how to execute each movement at a slower pace before fluidly guiding her through the motions.

There had been a particular occasion where Sasha had caught on to a move rather quickly and Ronda found her shoulders pinned to the mat with authority. Her eyebrows had lifted in surprise. It was exactly that Sasha had caught on so quickly, but the fact that Sasha had not only caught on quickly but damn near _mastered_ the move. Ronda would’ve been lying if she had said it wasn’t one of the most attractive things she’s ever seen.

They’d been seeing each other for only a handful of months and while things had been slowly getting intimate here and there, Ronda had done her best to remain respectful. At times though, it had been a little more than difficult as she had recalled one particular time where a quick peck led to a make out session and a long-forgotten movie.

This time, though. Something had just felt _different_.

“That, ah…that looks really good actually,” Ronda had swallowed thickly as she was made well aware of their closeness on the mat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…um…we can run through it again. If you want?”

“Ronda…” Sasha had placed her hand on Ronda’s shoulder the moment she had made notion to move. Her eyes had dropped almost shyly before she leaned down and connected their lips in a tentative kiss. Though the kiss had been shy initially, it quickly became heated. The kiss had become something of a deep exploration, and things had only paused when Sasha moaned involuntarily as hands came up to grasp at her waist and pull her flush against the body beneath her.

Ronda had released a shaky breath. “Sash, ah…” she had swallowed nervously as Sasha inadvertently shifted her weight on top of her. “Fuck…”

“Yeah…” the word had been the last thing quietly whispered as Sasha leaned down to capture Ronda’s lips once again.

* * *

It had been midmorning when Sasha had fully opened her eyes. It took her a moment to recognize and remember where she was. She had sighed contently and closed her eyes once more as she sank by into the comfortable confines of slightly cool sheets and push pillows. It would have been prime time for her to slip back into a blissful state of sleep, but she was only jarred back into reality when the bed dipped just slightly next to her. She had blinked back into the land of consciousness and had been immediately met with a steely gaze staring down at her.

“Mornin’.”

The sleepy casualness in Ronda’s voice had bought a somewhat shy smile to Sasha’s lips. “Morning…” she had echoed, her own voice still colored with sleep as she was soon overtaken with a tiny yawn. “What time is it?”

Ronda had turned her head slightly to take a glance at the clock that was on the nearest nightstand. “Just a little past eleven,” she responded with a small smile of her own.

“Jesus,” Sasha had yawned again, completely taken off guard by how late in the morning it actually was. She certainly hadn’t been able to recall a time where she had sleep in past nine thirty, much less a time where she’s slept so comfortably. The catlike stretch that had followed did wonders for her body and otherwise still deliciously achy limbs. She had kept the sheets close to her chest as she turned on her side to face Ronda full on to find the other woman’s gaze still hadn’t wavered. “What?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Nothing? I don’t believe that. You’re looking like you’re pretty proud of something over there.”

Ronda had chuckled quietly and shaken her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that, it’s just ah,” her smile widened. “You’re just really beautiful in the mornings.”

Sasha had immediately felt her face go warm and suddenly Ronda’s gaze had felt even more heavy and weighted than it had only a few short moments prior. “Stop…” she mumbled as her eyes drifted away. Before she had been able to turn away completely, she was stopped by a hand gently cupping her face. “I probably look a hot mess.”

“No. Well, yes, but everyone looks a mess in the mornings, but…I like this you. It’s like…I dunno,” Ronda had shrugged as she tried to recollect her words. “I’ve never seen you like this, you know? This is the first time you’ve spent the night and it’s like…I dunno, it’s natural?”

“You’re probably the first and only person to tell me they like seeing me without make up first thing in the morning,” Sasha had joked despite the fact her face was warming by the second. She had reached up and gently tangle her fingers in Ronda’s hair that had been damp and smelled of fresh citrus.

“Well…then you could say lucky me, I guess? Other people really don’t know what they’re missing but,” Ronda head leaned down just a bit closer to where they were only separated by a breath’s inch. “I’m kinda glad they don’t. I like having you here. With me.”

Sasha had grinned and instead of responding verbally, she tightened her grip on Ronda’s hair just slightly before pulling her down to close that last bit of distance that had separated them. Like many of the kisses the night prior, this one was passion filled and deep, however, it held a spark of gentle excitement as they both came to terms with something that was indeed very new to the both of them.

“I made breakfast…” Ronda had whispered against Sasha’s lips when the need for air became a necessity.

“I should probably shower…” Sasha had whispered back, though she had made absolutely no attempt to move.

Ronda had shrugged casually. “I can also make a shower.”

Sasha snorted. “Make a shower…” she echoed, giggling quietly as she shook her head. “Hey…I think I just might like you. You know that?”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Ronda had feigned letting out a bated breath before she grinned widely. “’Cause I think I just might like you too.”

Sasha had felt her heart soar the moment she leaned up to connect their lips once more. It was exhilarating as it was tarrying. She had never been here before. Not with something that felt so serious so quickly. A part of her wonders if she landed wrong in a match and the past few months were nothing more than some misconstrued fantasy she made up in her own state of delusion. As Ronda’s hands found her waist, she was thankfully reminded that it was all a fresh new reality, and despite her own self hesitance, she found herself more than ready to explore it.

* * *

It has only been a few weeks since she’s been in the ring and for Sasha, things were a little rocky at first, but she eventually loosened up and got back into the groove of things. It was an exhibition match that didn’t exactly hold any stakes, really only being set into place for her to try and shake off a few minor cobwebs that might have built up during her absence. It had been much longer than she would’ve anticipated from herself, but she came away with the win despite feeling some soreness from the offense she took here and there.

When she reaches her dressing room, she’s unsurprised to find Ronda sitting in the same chair she had been before Sasha left. Her posture is somewhat rigid and her arms are folded tightly as she stared almost anxiously at the monitor on the wall in front of her. As soon as she heard the door open, she had turned and immediately got to her feet as she saw her girlfriend entering the room.

“How was it?” Ronda asks immediately as she takes Sasha into her arms for an embrace, while still being mindful of the belt around the other woman’s waist.

Sasha shrugs. “It was okay…it definitely wasn’t my best match, but I haven’t exactly been training so I guess a part of that’s on me.”

Ronda huffs and the corners of her lips tug downward. “I wanted to be out there cheering you on.”

“No…” Sasha responds quickly, biting her lip when she immediately sees Ronda’s eyebrows furrow intensely. “No, I mean…I wanted you here, instead. Remember you’ve said you’ve had a headache all day? What would being out there with all that noise would’ve done?”

Ronda’s jaw tenses slightly and she takes a half step back. “I thought we were done with this when we got to the hotel…” she mutters before sighing. “Why are you treating me like a kid?”

Sasha’s eyebrows raise. “I’m just trying to look out for you—”

“Well I can look out for myself, alright!?”

“Ronnie…”

Sasha shakes her head as she blinks owlishly. From the other side of the room, she watches as Ronda paces back and forth while raking her hands through her hair. It was something she had noticed over the past couple of days, the random outbursts and the way her girlfriend would immediately flush to a deep shade of red as she appeared to be parrying some form of powerful emotions. At first Sasha had chalked it up to Ronda’s stubbornness, but she had started to become a bit suspect of something after seeing how Ronda was about two seconds from throwing their flight attendant from the plane after the poor woman had accidentally spilled a less than four-ounce cup of water across Sasha’s lap.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fucking _fine!_ ” Ronda huffs with emphasis. “Why are you so convinced that I’m not!?”

Sasha’s lips form into a thin line as she straightens up slightly. “Why are you yelling…?” 

Ronda’s eyes go wide. “Are you—are you _fucking_ kidding me right now!? I’m not yelling! I’m trying to have a fucking conversation but you’re just—”

“Ronda I’m not—”

“You’re fucking treating my like some sort of idiot and I’m getting pretty fucking tired--!”

“…is everything okay?”

Sasha hadn’t even realized she had left the door part of the way open after she walked in. She quickly turns towards the voice and her eyebrows raise when she spots Becky hesitantly stepping part of the way into the opening. She then quickly turns back to Ronda who has since stopped pacing and frozen in place where she stands on the other side of the room. Sasha turns back to Becky and sighs quietly.

“It’s fin—”

“We’re fine.” Ronda cuts in quickly, her voice having lost any and all of its volume. If anything, it’s taken up an eerily firm and cold lit that is enough to stunt the air in the room. “You can go.”

Sasha’s eyes widen. “Ronda…!”

“What?” Ronda responds as her jaw tenses. “She asked a question and I answered it. We’re fine.”

Becky’s eyes dart between the two women before she settles on Sasha with a raised eyebrow. “So…everything’s all good then?”

Sasha sighs, completely taken aback at her girlfriend’s behavior. “Everything’s fine, but…would you mind staying for a sec?” she turns to Ronda and her eyebrows knit together pleadingly. “Babe…would you mind giving us a minute?”

Ronda’s eyes narrow. “You’re serious?” she asks, snorting bitterly when Sasha doesn’t verbally respond, but instead sends her another begging look. “Course you’re serious, why wouldn’t you’d be…” she begins muttering to herself as she slips past the two of them towards the door. 

_“Do fucking anything for these fakes who don’t give a single damn about you…”_ it’s inaudible and undecipherable, but Ronda had meant it with every fiber of her being as she storms from the room.

Sasha watches her girlfriend stalk away before she sighs openly and rubs her temples. “I’m sorry…” she mutters while shaking her head.

Becky shakes her head. “No, uh. It’s cool. Are you sure you’re okay though? She seemed kinda…ya know.”

“No, no. She’s fine. She’s…well actually I don’t know. We’re both just working through some things. Coming off us the both of us being out for a while,” Sasha sighs once again as she wraps her arms around herself. “It’s been kinda hard, actually. Things have kinda changed, and I’m still trying to get used to everything.”

Becky’s eyes dart down to the belt around the other woman’s waist, and her jaw tenses just a fraction, but it’s an action that’s there and gone before Sasha can even register it. “Yeah…it seems like it,” she mutters before reaching up to awkwardly rub at the back of her neck.

“I mean, I’m really happy to be back, you know? I’m just wondering if it’s the right time. But at the same time, I have to, you know? This is…” Sasha interrupts her own rambling with a nervous laugh. “This isn’t at all how I saw this happening, you know? I didn’t think there’d be this much going on the first time I actually get something. Jokes on me for thinking it would be easy right.”

Becky shrugs. “It gets easier, but I mean, some people just have it you know? It’s just like a natural thing that comes and goes when you need it to. Some people just know how to handle it.”

Sasha is sure it wasn’t intentional, but the comment leaves a bit of a stinging impression as she processes it. Her gaze momentarily drops to the floor before she shrugs. “I can handle it…” she mumbles before shrugging. “It’s just new.”

“No, yeah, I wasn’t saying you couldn’t. I was just saying…” Becky trails off as she never completes the last of her phrase.

The silence that settles between the two friends is something awkward. It’s very akin to two estranged people who are meeting up for the first time after so long. Which case in point, it hasn’t exactly been _that_ long, but with a title match that happened in between their last hangout and this very moment, it might as well have been that long.

Shifting uncomfortably, Sasha eventually bites the bullet. “It’s been a while since we’ve just…sat and talked, and I could really use a drink,” she can’t even deny the fact that it’s been _way_ too long and she misses her friend. “Do you have anything going after tonight?”

Becky mulls it over for a moment before shaking her head. “Nah…I’m pretty much done here for the night anyways. They told me to hang around because they were thinking about having me interrupt your match. It was your first one back, so I guess it would’ve been too…messy or whatever.” She shrugs. “You got something in mind?”

“Yeah, at least two cocktails and a giant basket of fries,” Sasha breathes out a laugh.

Becky’s face turns to her usual sideways grin before she frowns. “I’m down, but you sure Ronda’s gonna be okay with it? Seems like she wanted to talk about something.”

“She doesn’t…” Sasha sighs, as she regards that every conversation between the two of them has become more and more like pulling teeth. She worries her bottom lip before closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Ronda will be fine. I’ll pick a place and—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Becky is quick to interrupt before she smirks. “ _I’ll_ pick the place. Last time you picked the place I ended up with some bottle blonde calling my phone for three months.”

“She thought you were cute!”

“She had lip injections, Sash! Those things looked like toilet plungers!”

Sasha laughs openly as she recalls the memory. “Okay, okay! You pick the place then. I’ll let you know when I get back to my hotel, and we’ll meet from there?”

“Aye, Boss.” Becky gives a lazy salute before backing towards the door. “Don’t take too long doing your makeup.”

Sasha flips Becky the bird as she ducks out of the room. She huffs quietly and retraces Becky’s steps and pauses at the doorway. The smile she had previously worn on her face fades when she makes eye contact with Ronda who is leaning against the wall across just a few paces down. Her arms are folded tightly, and her glare is cold as she makes no motion to move away from the wall.

Sasha opens her mouth to say something, but instead she finds her mouth closing when the words don’t come. Her eyes drop and she shakes her head silently before retreating back into her dressing room. She waits alone for a few lengthy moments. When there’s no indication of footsteps or anything of the like, she shakes her head again and softly closes the door behind her.

* * *

_Could you beam me up,_

_Give me a minute, I don't know what I'd say in it_

_Probably just stare, happy just to be there holding your face_

_Beam me up_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by friends :) see you in the next one!  
> ~Beam Me Up, P!nk


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